D Sway the Waves of Time
by rose7anne101
Summary: Damn him to the fiery pits of hell! The Roger brat did it again, sending him here. "Well", Whitebeard took a deep breath. "I am here now." What was he going to do about it? TimeTravel AU. Beta'd. Read notes at the end! Cover image by YametaStudio.
1. The Unwanted Welcomer

**Author's note:**

 **The chapter was beta'd by the wonderful Gerbilfriend** who helped me a lot with grammar and paraphrasing and general ideas and choosing the Title. (*Ace's deep bow*) 

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 **Warnings:**

English is my fourth language. Warning may change in the future.

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 **Please read the notes in the end, QUITE IMPORTANT!**

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So this was how he would leave this voyage. Seeing his son dying in front of him without being able to do anything to protect him. The strongest man in the world failing to protect his family as he had never failed so miserably before.

His youngest son, the one he longed so much to protect, to embrace, for him to feel real joy and acceptance, dying in front of him, was the last nail in the coffin, he was old and tired. He felt his own power, the same power he prided himself in wielding to protect his family waning, slipping from his fingers like sand.

Blackness was all around him, trying to swallow him, devouring him but it couldn't stop the memories from filling his head.

Thanks to his sons and daughters, he lived a life of joy, no, he lived his dream every day, hour, minute.

They sailed with him in this voyage, giving him all he ever wanted. Yet he left them in the midst of a battlefield, to face the uncertain future alone. His sons and daughters were strong but …, he sighed in wariness and concern.

He lost friends, enemies, sons and daughter who left his sanctuary, _home_ , willingly or were slain in battle defending it, but this wasn't the end he wished for. Not for himself, but for his sons, this wasn't what he wanted them to have to deal with after his departure.

Blackness swallowed those memories too.

He knew his voyage was coming to an end for a while now, he couldn't ignore the signs that his body was sending.

But not like this.

The blackness was clearing a little bit, or maybe his eyes were getting used to it, yet his body refused to relax.

"One piece exists, isn't that a little lame for your last words, old man. Really, you couldn't find anything more creative and exciting to say as the words you would be remembered by."

He reflexively tried to clutch his bisento, to find it not at his side as it should be, it wasn't there to begin with.

He knew that voice but he hadn't heard it in more than 22 years.

"Roger, you're not the first face I wanted to see in the beginning of this new voyage."

"Tough luck," the voice answered amused, a smiling face appeared shimmering in front of his eyes. The smile reminded him of Ace, the son he failed.

Roger stood before him, exactly like he membered him in their last conversation, down to the white cravat around his neck, in his hand was a bottle of sake (as per usual) written on it, 'winds of change'.

 _Hmmmm, interesting._

"Did you meet …" he began and stopped.

"Ace," continued Roger for Whitebeard.

His smile disappeared, he shook his head, "his mother."

And that was all needed to be said about that.

Whitebeard nodded and mused to himself _that was the right person to welcome his son in the beginning of his new journey. The question was why was he stuck with_ _ **Roger**_ _as his welcomer?_

"That one of things I wanted to speak to you about," Roger said solemnly after a long pause.

Bowing his head, he continued, "Thank you for taking care of him, for giving him the opportunity to call someone father willingly, to have a real family. To know that he was loved for being him. Rogue and I are eternally grateful."

Pain and sorrow was apparent in his voice and face. Roger was never able to hide his emotions. No. he didn't ever try to or care to (if he ever tried it meant trouble was around the corner).

"You should have brought him to me," there was no accusation in his words, but this was his answer. Ace was his son, a thank you wasn't wanted or needed.

Those unsaid words seemed to cross to Roger, because his next words were, "Maybe I should have," he paused looking quite thoughtful, "but then he wouldn't have met his younger brother."

"Your successor," said Whitebeard as matter of fact.

"It seems so, doesn't it? Shanks approves of him; he did give him my hat. Ace loved him to pieces and believed in him completely, Rayleigh also approves, and so do you," He stated, waiting for a denial that never came.

Whitebeard couldn't help but remember him, as he last saw him, his anguished cry resounding in his head, his grieving figure full of sorrow and denial in the same time, was engraved in his heart.

He heard himself ask, "will he survive?"

Roger had a distant look at his face that vanished quickly, he shrugged his shoulders as he said, "if he is the carrier of the true will of D, then he will."

Whitebeard nodded, _then he will indeed_. It wouldn't be easy, it would be heart wrenching, but he would, Whitebeard was sure. _Teach in the other hand was no true D, he would get what was coming to him._

Roger motioned for him to sit, and as they did the blackness cleared around them. The place, whatever it was, seemed a bit friendlier than before.

Roger took out cups from his pockets, huge cups. _This place was different, he couldn't put his finger on why, but he could feel it in his old bones. He had seen and experienced different and weird places on his own voyage but this place was more than a bit eerie._

Roger poured from the bottle into the two cups, and offered one to him.

Whitebeard eyed his reflection in the cup, he looked the same as he did the morning before the battle. He just realized he doesn't feel any pain at all from his scars and many old wounds, it was as if he lost all sensation in his body.

They both drank in silence, he enjoyed his drink (it was somehow familiar), yet missed the sensation of his throat burning as he swallowed, this place was truly eerie.

Roger holding his cup near his face, after small pause to gulp from his cup, said.

"I wanted him to have the choice to choose his own life, his own journey, like we did."

He added looking at him in seriousness that was strange on his face.

"I wanted him to taste the freedom from his own choices," and gulped the rest of his drink in one go.

Whitebeard did the same, he would drink to this. The _freedom to choose your own fate_.

Roger added, his signature smile back in his face, "still he did find his way to you, didn't he?"

They both laughed at the irony.

"What is this place?" asked Whitebeard eyeing the blackness all around that was somehow a bit farther now, he felt as if his depth perception was screwing with him. It somehow looked clearer yet everything seemed to have blackness in it, even he himself.

Roger stroked his beard and said, "it's hard to explain, this place is no place, it doesn't exist."

Whitebeard stared at him while raising his eyebrow, telling him _yet here we are_.

"It's here but not here, hmmm, I am not making much sense am I?"

Whitebeard snorted, "when did you ever?"

Their last conversation came to mind, Roger never knew how to moderate things, it always was all or nothing, literally and metaphorically.

Roger ignored him, "let's say it's a crossroad."

"To where?"

"To everywhere, of course!" said Roger quite pleased with himself.

Whitebeard sighed, shaking his head in weariness, _why did he even bother to ask, he should know better, some things never changed_.

"I assume that isn't what you wanted to speak to me about," asked Whitebeard after some time passed with only the drinking sound disturbing the silence.

Roger get busy, pouring more sake to both of them. _He seemed like buying time for himself. Why?_

"No," he said looking at him straight in the eyes, and paused.

Whitebeard was going to open his mouth to demand an answer when he heard.

"If you had the choice to do your journey again will you take it?"

Whitebeard took the cup from his hand and drank, he frowned, the taste brought feeling of nostalgia, but even after drinking more than few cups, he couldn't pinpoint what was its origin was or where he tasted this kind of sake before. Strange, He could usually tell after one taste!

"You are talking about a second chance? living my life again? redoing my adventure?" he asked with skepticism while raising his eyebrow in time with his cup.

He took another sip of the sake, and Roger poured him some more. Was he trying to make him drunk? He needed at least 20 barrels. Maybe, just maybe it would work then. Whitebeard snorted inwardly, the idiotic brat, what was he trying to do?

"It is simple question; would you do it or not?"

 _The question was anything but sample_.

"There are things that I regret, but don't we all."

He paused deep in thought taking another gulp.

"I didn't wish to leave my sons and daughters in their hardest hour, some of the things they will face are because of me and my choices..." he trailed off.

"You are saying you wanted to die of old age while your sons and daughters surrounding your soft death-bed," asked Roger in a mocking tone with a raised eyebrow of his own.

"Gragragragrara, fighting is the way to go, you brat." He laughed, "defending my family, my dream. There can be no better death." _But he wasn't able to defend them, like he should_ _have_ _. Did he?_

He took another gulp and eyed Roger, "I don't need to explain this to you, Roger."

"No, you don't," agreed Roger, looking thoughtful again.

They both made similar choices. _Their makeshift families were important._

Whitebeard saw him like this handful of times, usually before he announced a bomb in both the figurative and literal sense. _This should be good,_ he thought but a faint feeling of dread wouldn't leave him alone, and with time and experience he learned to trust those feelings, especially when Roger was involved.

Roger poured him more to drink, the small bottle seemed to contain unending amount of a sake. If this was what the afterlife was like, he could get used to it. He still couldn't pinpoint the origin of this sake, and it was grating on his nerves, and he _refused_ to ask the brat Roger, he would only laugh knowingly without answering, infuriating him.

"To answer your _weird_ question no," said Whitebeard in decisive finality.

 **He regretted many things, many decisions that he should have taken or not taken. But in the end, he gained from those decisions much more, more sons and daughters, he gained a family, a true one.**

 **He could never regret that; his family was everything he ever wanted**.

Roger nodded and drink from his cup, his playful smile was back in vengeance and his eyes were twinkling (his gut was screaming at him that this was not a good sign).

Whitebeard eyes narrowed, the feeling of dread was intensifying. He wanted to demand to know what was Roger planning, or to flatly tell him that he wanted _nothing_ with whatever he devised because he knew from hard earned experience it was never anything good (especially if it began with I want a small favour).

Whitebeard was still trying to decided which approach was the best to handle the scheming Roger when he heard.

"Too bad."

Absolute darkness swallowed him.

He wasn't sure if what he heard was Roger's advice or his imagination, but he would swear he heard those softly spoken words.

"His time wasn't over yet … May the sea wind make your voyage a wild one."

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 **This story wouldn't be updated as regularly as my other fics.** Here is the deal. I am posting three other awesome stories, that I try to update regularly. But I have this awesome plot planned (if I do say so myself ^^) for this story and I began writing this story back in July of last year, and I am stuck, I hardly ever open the file to work on it.

So I am posting it to make it an "official" story and to pressure and motivate myself to write more of it (to put my ass in gear and began writing it, dammit), feel free to help motivate me too.

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Awaiting your motivation speeches ;)

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 **Some mistakes corrected by the amazing** **Black' Victor Cachat :)**


	2. Caught Red Haired

**Author's note:**

 **The chapter was beta'd by the wonderful Gerbilfriend** **who helped me a lot with grammar and paraphrasing and choosing the title. (*Ace's deep bow*)**

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 **.**

 **Warnings:**

English is my fourth language. Warning may change in the future.

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 **Ame**

Hello! Thank you for the motivation, yeah, I wanted to read Whitebeard back in time, so I decided to write one myself, hope you continue sharing your thoughts about the Fic with me, enjoy the new chapter. :)

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 **Pokipo**

Oh, thank you sir, yes sir, here it is, sir. XD.

I knew when I said to put my ass on gear, it would come back to bite me on the ass. Lol

Appreciate the motivation and the laugh, I hope you enjoy the new chapter and share your thoughts with me.

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 **Please read the notes in the end about this Fic**.

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"…you're not dying on me old man, are you! Your sons will roast me alive and have me for snack if anything were to happen to you! Maybe you shouldn't drink so muc... " someone was saying in panic, he ignored the words and concentrated on the voice.

He knew this voice, it grated on his nerves for some reason.

He opened his eyes, _when had he closed them?_

The rays of the sun were too bright, he blinked and squinted, his head was aching. _Why?_

He concentrated on his body and posture, he was sitting on … a chair, what felt like his own chair. The one they built especially for his body's build when they built the Moby, in his left hand he was loosely clutching something.

The voice was still going on and on, it was colored with alarm and nervousness, and its volume was increasing with each word. He blinked rapidly, and squinted his eyes again looking at the figure sitting across of him, still trying to place the voice.

The voice really made him want to grit his teeth. He wanted to rub his aching head so bad but instead.

"Shut up, you brat," Whitebeard snapped and took a long gulp from the sake bottle clutched in his hand. He could feel the sake's heat burning while it ran down his throat. _That was how it should be._

His head felt like it was on fire, not even drinking his sake for the first time when he was thirteen (six bottles) brought him this much pain. He had no doubt that _this_ was somehow the damned Roger brat's fault, that shitty snotty rascal.

Damn him.

The wound Roger gave him years ago in one of their first fights ached furiously (curse his bloody ass), and the annoying needles in his arms and back were instantly prickling him.

The Red Hair brat sitting in front of him was eyeing him quietly in bewilderment and worry shining clearly in his eyes.

He was not at the _crossroads_ anymore (he was pretty sure that shitty brat Roger made up the name), but home _._

 _Or just maybe the Red Hair brat decided to follow him to the afterlife, him and his_ _ **captain**_ _intending to making his life even more miserable, adding to his headaches literally and metaphorically._

Damn them both, shitty selfish to the core.

Whitebeard focused on him, leaning a bit forward, narrowing his eyes and scrutinizing the Red Hair brat's figure from head to toe, who was staring in confusion back at him.

 _For second Whitebeard considered if it may have been a dream (bloody nightmare), and then snorted at himself, he might want to believe that the meeting with that shitty brat was a dream, but the memory of the battle and of his own death was vividly sharp in his mind's eyes._

And the Red Hair brat in front of him was young. Quite a bit younger from the last time he saw him.

 _Damn you, you selfish rotten prick._

 _Damn you Roger, you piece of snotty crap, to the fiery pits of hell._

This was the meeting they had after the Red Hair brat come back from East Blue, nine years ago.

No.

It was the now, **now**.

He should have beat the shit and then _some_ out of the a _nnoying pain in the ass rascal when he had the chance._

The Red Hair brat had already lost his arm, and his _hat. That moron's legacy,_ had a new owner. It was that cheeky brat with headstrong personality, Ace's little brother.

 _Damn you Roger, damn you, you selfish little stinky prick._

He took another long gulp of the sake.

Maybe he should go to the afterlife early this time, surprise the shit out of holy terror.

Whitebeard sighed and relaxed in his chair taking another long gulp.

Nine years.

He needed to think carefully and plan everything methodically.

There was no easy path nor free ride and definitely no shortcuts. Everything had consequences, and sometimes these consequences were not only very unexpected but unquestionably unwanted.

Nine years.

His dear son Thatch was still with them, breathing, energetic, laughing at his own awful jokes, and getting playfully offended if anyone mentioned his perfect pompadour hair.

Whitebeard choked the impulse to call for him by taking slow gulp from the bottle in his hand. He felt a need, a longing to embrace him, to feel the blood flowing under his skin, to hear his laughter.

The last memory of him flashed in Whitebeard's mind, his hand clenched tightly around the bottle as he remembered the unmoving body laying on the floor, blood seeping from the stabbing wound on his back, the knife still there glistening as to remind them of the betrayal in all its forms that they had witnessed.

But it was not a memory anymore. It had yet to happen and **it would not.**

He unclenched his hand, when he heard a faint cracking sound, the Rat was not worth wasting a good sake on.

Yet, the fact that _Traitor_ was here on this ship, his own home, his family's sanctuary, eating, laughing and drinking between his true sons and daughters made the rage in him itch to be freed. The rat was playing a role of crewmate like _this_ was only a performance, biding his time to show his true colors. When the time came and his purpose was fulfilled, and only then, he would step down from the old, run down stage, ripping the costume he was wearing for more than 15 years to begin living his 'true' life. This portrayal created by his mind made Whitebeard want to hurl the bottle out, preferably _on the turncloak's_ head while Ace lit him up for both of their enjoyment.

 _Carefully and methodically. Everything has it consequences,_ he repeated in his aching head, putting a temporary leash on the rage boiling under the surface of his mind.

Sengoku, that shitty brat Akainu, _hmmmmm… those damn marines that dared to go after his family, I need to teach them a lesson that they would never forget….. Especially_ Akainu.

Priorities. First thing first, only the patient ones would get the whole reward. He may be an old man and far from his prime, but his hunter's instincts were sharp and one could never forget the lessons of his first voyage, slowly and diligently.

Whitebeard brought himself back to the reality of now. _Priorities_ , he told himself.

 _Ace._

 _His son, the one to leave only seconds before him._

 _He wouldn't fail him again, he couldn't, and not because of the selfish airhead moron brat Roger_.

He found himself saying loudly.

"East Blue, huh, maybe I should go there and find me a brat of my own."

 _His son was eleven now, he could give him and the other younger brat a real family early. It would be fun to have those younglings running around the Moby Dick wreaking havoc to their elder brothers' dismay. He would have a chance to see Ace grow up to became the wild spirit he knew he was born to be._

Shanks laughed, relaxing his body as he said, "Careful Whitebeard, your jealousy is showing."

" _Gragragragragra,"_ Whitebeard bellowed his laughter. His body relaxing despite the pain and the turmoil of thoughts storming his mind.

 _Jealousy, hmmmm, the Red Hair brat was sometimes too much like the prick Roger for his own good._

The Red Hair brat seemed to be lost in his own thoughts, the worry he expressed for Whitebeard's well-being already something of the past.

Shanks said suddenly as an impulse, "My brat as you dubbed him, doesn't have it easy at all."

A longing smile crossing his face.

 _Hmmm… not easy … he meant …_

" **Garp** ," muttered Whitebeard loudly.

The Red Hair brat was right, Whitebeard mused, his own son, Ace, did tell him about some of their training sessions as young children, and about the most feared and dreaded fist of love, as he shakily and respectively dubbed it. If he were actually to take the two young brats, Grap would not be happy (an understatement), he would need to consid… the thread of his thoughts were cut by chilly wind howling directly at him, making him blink.

The temperature had suddenly dropped.

Whitbread felt a chill seep into his bones and it was not helping one bit with his still aching head, he glared at the suddenly darkened sky.

The sun was hidden behind black clouds. Was there a storm on the horizon today? (It seemed poetic, a physical storm to reflect the storm pouring in his own mind).

The change of the weather didn't surprise him, they were in the New World, after all.

But...

He didn't remember storm happening in this day. A storm had happened three days prior to his meeting with the Red Hair brat, they were lucky to meet without the scrutiny from the marines, who were probably now fretting, worrying and trying to find to where the Moby disappeared... Hmmmm.. If he remembered correctly it took them more than week to spot a marine ship in the area.

The marines keeping close watch on them would have to change, gradually and slowly, they need to be real cautious while slipping away as not to rise any unnecessary suspicious.

He sighed inwardly, one more thing to consider added to the endless list of things he has to keep in mind, in the grand scheme of things.

Hmmmm… the wind was getting stronger, and thunder began rolling in the distance.

Today was supposed to be a sunny day, too hot according to his grumbling sons….

Was it a consequence of him being back, _he didn't know how the Roger brat pulled this feat off and what to expect as …._

" **Newgate** , what do you know?" A cold deadly voice demanded, it was not loud but you could hear the intent clearly in every syllable.

 _Or maybe not._

The change was happening because of the brat in front of him, he didn't look happy at all.

His Haki was as impressive as always, not surprising, he was after all the youngest to become a Yonko, the apex pirates. Whitebeard shook his head in weariness, the headache was making him slow to notice the obvious

The look in the brat eyes did remind him of the shitty brat Roger (always bringing him trouble) before the start any of their fights, a fierce deadly look, that promised he would have his way and if he didn't like the answer, things would get real ugly.

Whitebeard took another gulp from his sake, here goes his plan to think and consider everything slowly and meticulously.

Because of a slip of tongue, from all things.

He should have been more careful, he wanted to bang his head (it might help with his headache, if nothing else).

Here came his _downfall_ , he grimaced, cursing mentally. So typical because of the D morons, Garp and Roger. Some things never changed.

 _That idiotic duo always brought him trouble, of course it could never be the fun kind of trouble like battling against fleet of ships or destroying a marine base and taking their sake as keepsake._

No, it have to be fate of the world kind, the life and death of whole nations kind, not his own demise, unfortunately.

He could almost hear the idiotic brat Roger laughing merrily at his predicament. Curse the moron (he wondered again if he should just die to spite the little shitty git, and go beat the shit and the snout out of him _repeatedly._ When he saw him again, he would...)

The Red brat seemed to mean business, that was what every fiber of his body was transmitting. The furious brat stood up posture tense, his eyes seemed to glitter with color of blood like his hair, his hand gripping tightly the hilt of his sword.

"Newgate," his voice was as cold as the storm pouring behind him, _because of him._

The wind howled echoing his voice, the air getting more and chillier.

Whitebeard heard several loud thumps, he assumed some of his sons had fainted, others were panickingly shouting, his eldest was trying to keep everything under control, he could hear his voice loudly ordering, but not the words.

Whitebeard sighed, gripping the bisento in his unoccupied hand while taking a long gulp from the bottle in his other hand.

Pity, he was just getting used to the feeling of the warm sun on his skin again.

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Thank you all that reviewed and PM me with ideas and motivation. Guests reviewers your answers are above.

What do you think about the timeline? ^^ and Whitebeard's reaction?

I hope you enjoyed this chapter, please let me know.

 **Decisions about this story:**

1\. With happy and heavy heart, I decided on final timeline (I may changes the plots of the timeline, I always change things when I write), and discarded the long list of potential timeline (six pages, each one of them had great potential, :( )

2\. This story would have a lot of different POV in the future, and not only Whitebeard.

3\. Few times things would seem vague and unclear, it is deliberate.

4\. Some minor characters that are barely mentioned in OP would play a major role here.

5\. Even though I wrote scenes and planned the next few chapter (very proud of myself), this story would still be slow in updating in comparison to my other fics, expect if you motivate me to write more ;)

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Please leave review, and keep the motivation rollin' ^^

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 **Some mistakes corrected by the amazing** **Black' Victor Cachat :)**


	3. Red Strands of Fate

**Author's note:**

 **.**

 **Some mistakes corrected in the first and second chapter.**

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 **The chapter was beta'd by the wonderful Gerbilfriend and Black' Victor Cachat who both helped me a lot with grammar, paraphrasing, ideas and specially with their endless encouragement :D**

 **.**

 **Warnings:**

English is my fourth language. Warning may change in the future.

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 **Ame**

Thank you! Happy to hear you enjoyed yourself! Hope you find this the new chapter as fantastic as the last two. ;)

Let me know what you thought about his explanation.

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 **Pokipo**

Yo! Thank you for your review. I don't know maybe him wanting to beat the snout out of Roger was not clear enough, after all, you thought he cursed Robert (lol).

Your welcome to try and find me, shishishi…

What did you think about my other stories? :D

Hope you enjoy the new chapter! Waiting to hear from you.

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Thank you to my other 'guests' hope you enjoy yourself!

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 **Please read the notes in the end.**

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The overpowering sounds of the storm and the angry howling sea were not able to swallow the echo of their fight.

It enchanted it.

The sound of their clashing mingled with sounds of the wind howling, thunder rumbling distantly and the huge waves crashing over the ship creating a unique harmony only harden fighters could appreciate.

This was the sound of a _war_ between two emperors of the sea.

The might of their exchange was not something _mere_ words could describe.

The sound of their weapons clashing together was so intense, it reverberated throughout the ship.

Their first strike had split the sky into two.

From there, his bisento and the brat's saber locked with every strike, the brat was able to evenly block his bisento heavy strikes regardless to the changing force he put behind each swing.

He would expect nothing less from _his_ _protégé_. Damn him and his brat.

They had been going at it for a while and with how things were going it would be a while still.

The aftermath from every attack spread out in all directions, ripping up the floor and the rails of the ship.

Marco would not be amused, considered Whitebeard, he could already see him assessing the damage and how much would it cost to repair while giving him a dirty look sideways.

But Whitebeard was being entertained, very much so.

A fight exactly was what he needed to relax his tense body and mind, and to beat them back into shape. With every strike his headache subsided. His mind became much and much sharper, clearer and his body lighter. It was a big (Huge, the next best thing) bonus that his opponent had once held that shitty brat's legacy.

Whitebeard put an immense amount of armament haki into his next swing going in heavy, clutching his bisento with both hands aiming for the neck, for the brat to meet it with _some ease,_ in equal amount of power behind his block, not rattled one bit by the sudden change of pace.

Indeed, the brat reminded him of Roger, the look in their eyes in times of battle were the same, focused, unflinching, staring into your very soul.

While his body was immersed in the fight his mind was contemplating possibilities.

Red Hair lunged forward and with all the skill he could muster, he swung aiming at Whitebeard's lower stomach, Whitebeard instantly took a step back while changing his grip on his weapon and reflexively brandishing his bisento to block this sudden attack.

They both put more force behind their weapons, neither of them intending in backing out from this facedown, long seconds passed with them glaring at each other.

Red Hair took a sudden long jump back and readied his sword for another strike.

Whitebeard eyed him, looking at his determined expression, even though he lost his hand not so long ago, he had already adapted to fight without it.

The words the Red Hair brat said to him nine years ago, no, today, Whitebeard corrected himself. The words themselves flashing in his mind "I **bet my arm** on the new era," and it was one bet worth making, it was a winning bet, the young brat was one hell of D, the carrier of the lost legacy, the one lost _piece_ or maybe he should say lost no more.

Whitebeard relaxed his grip on his weapon, having reached his decision; or perhaps as the Red Haired brat had said before, he was going to place his bet on the future by choosing the now.

He planted his bisento down beside him with decisive force, the impact reverberating around the ship, making himself seem wide open, just daring the brat to attack him.

The brat didn't take the bait, his eyes sharp, waiting patiently to see what Whitebeard true purpose was.

"If you had the choice to do your journey again would you take it?" Whitebeard bellowed the question that begun the whole lousy situation at hand, his voice carried by the howling wind.

The Red Hair's whole body gave an involuntary shudder, he was not expecting that and he seemed to have frozen, his eyes wide open.

It was a good to be on the side of knowing for once and confusing the shit of someone else, Whitebeard thought amusedly to himself.

The Red Hair brat grip on his sword loosened and he blurted out.

"That's the same question that Captain Roger asked me once."

Whitebeard was the one to be startled this time, he felt like he was hit by a thunderbolt (the actual one was six feet from him) and his head was overwhelmed with different questions and scenarios. Did that mean that brat Roger had send someone else before? Had Red Hair died at one point in future or was it the past, a different past maybe and was sent back? Was the world they living in changed, how much? What else was altered?

Shit, this was too complicated, the possibilities (of screw ups that had or may happen) were infinite. Whitebeard cursed colorfully in his mind, that shitty brat Roger, damn him, he had to always muddle and entangle everything, even the simplest of things, and now added time travel to the equation and things got tremendously…...

He was too sober for this shit… a thought suddenly came to him, that made him unsure if he wanted to beat the shit or…. No. He still wanted to beat the shitty prick... Could the Roger brat have had the chance to send himself back in time _but_ instead sent Whitebeard and why?... Why him? Why?

The last words he heard that he assumed were Roger's farewell, ' _his time wasn't over yet'_ echoed in his head, but shouldn't the brat mend what had he himself broken? Roger was a lot of things (selfish git, shitty scumbag, arrogant prick, single minded bastard, stubborn brute, snotty childish stinky piece of shit ... the list went on and on) but he was no coward.

From the endless, disorientating thoughts running through his brain, he finally mustered his mouth and demanded loudly.

"When?"

The Red Hair brat had already sheathed his sword and was looking at him in bewilderment, his face scrunched up in confusion or was it reminiscent, Whitebeard didn't have the patience to decipher the look nor did he care.

"Hmmm, two years before his death." Red Hair finally said while staring at him with blank face.

The storm around them had abated, as it suddenly began it suddenly ended, without much of flare. The two that caused it, didn't take notice of this.

What was going on! Could the brat Roger have sent himself, _when he himself died_? Why the hell didn't he? What stopped him? Why had he sent him instead after 22 years? Those questions were running in loop in his head.

"What was your answer?" Whitebeard asked trying to distract himself from the mess that was his head and he was curious what a young pirate, before he took the quest to become a Yonko would have said.

"Hell no!" The Red Hair brat declared, a lopsided grin crossing his face.

"Why not?" asked Whitebeard, focusing on the conversation instead of the mess that was his head which was full to the brim with unanswered questions, making his recovered head ache anew.

"I don't want to live with _what if_ I did something. I want to do it and live with whatever the consequences are. I don't want regrets but neither do I want to doubt my own choices." It seemed to Whitebeard that he was reciting a words he once said and still stand behind until now.

Red Hair was still eyeing him in wariness and asked earnestly.

"Whitebeard, would you _please_ explain what the hell is going on. First, you have a heart attack on me…."

Whitebeard raised an eyebrow at his word choice, the Red Hair brat noticed and corrected his _choice_ (unsuccessfully if you asked him).

"... _What looked like a_ heart attack and then you somehow know things that you shouldn't, and now you are repeating the _same_ words my dead captain once told me."

Shanks was eyeing him with cautious, waiting for an explanation.

Whitebeard hummed, still considering how much to reveal and how to go about revealing it, he asked as much in interest as much to buy time for himself.

"What you spoke about before he asked that question? What was the context?"

The Red Hair had an unfocused look in his eyes, he seemed to be in deep thought, immersed in his memories.

"Am, we were arriving to …. it was a sudden question, unrelated to anything happening at that time."

The Red Hair brat looked to be back to reality after few seconds and asked.

"Why are you asking the same question that Captain Roger once asked? Are you intending to die...?"

Whitebeard raised an eyebrow at the blunt question, a mysterious smile crossing his face.

"The way you… and Roger asked it … it seemed like a death or life question and not a hypothetical question..." he trailed off.

The brat wasn't that off the mark, it was a life and death situation in ironic (and roundabout) kind of way.

"Did he speak to you too about this before his death?"

The brat was persistent; he was not going to leave any of it alone.

"Yes," Whitebeard mumbled after long pause and eyeing the Red Hair brat, he added conversationally.

"Nine years from now."

The Red Hair brat had his mouth open to ask some other question, hearing this he closed it, opened his mouth again, closed it, mouthed the words, "nine years…," opened his mouth again and stared blankly at Whitebeard waiting from him to explain or maybe to tell him that he was messing with him.

Whitebeard stared back, his face blank, keeping his immense amusement to himself.

The Red Hair looked up at the sky, shaking his head. _Was he trying to wake himself or was he asking for help?_ wondered Whitebeard. The brat finally mumbled.

"How did you meet him in _nine years_?"

"I died of course." Whitebeard answered in matter of fact of tone, without any hesitation.

"You die in nine years from now?" The Red Hair repeated, rubbing his head, he stopped trying to keep his face blank and was looking as incredulous as anyone could be.

" _Died_ , yes." Whitebeard answered slowly, hoping that the slowly spoken words would somehow cross into the brat mind, but not really.

This was fun, he was getting more entertained with each passing second.

Whitebeard titled his head to his left something catching his eye. He thought he glimpsed the yellow of his eldest son's hair in the corner of his eyes, probably checking to see if the fight had truly ended, or if this was the quiet before an even bigger _storm_.

Marco would have a lot to say about the damage, none of it would be pretty.

"Maybe you should stop drinking, no, maybe I should stop drinking!" Murmured Red Hair, eyeing warily the sake bottles they had drunk. (It was the ones that Red Hair brat brought with him.)

Whitebeard could see him considering what would happen to him if he was the reason that Whitebeard lost his mind… The Red Hair shook his head trying to wake himself from the nightmare he was building mumbling about his luck and bad sake…

Whitebeard ignored his _hysteria_ and announced instead.

"The brat you gave your hat to, Luffy D. Monkey, is pretty interesting brat."

Red Hair had an unreadable expression for second which was replaced quickly with seething anger.

"Were you spying on me?" Red Hair demanded, his hand going back to the hilt of his sword.

Whitebeard raised an eyebrow at his tone as much as the accusation words and couldn't help but laugh all out at the disbelieving look on the brat's face.

The Red Hair brat's face was scrunched up and deep frown was nestled between his eyebrows, when the words finally sink in, and his eyes bug out as he yelled, (just as Whitebeard had expected).

"Wait you meet Luffy in the future?" He murmured "nine years," counting on his fingers the years, "seventeen… seventeen," and yelled without any restraint.

"How was he? How did you meet him? Why did you meet him? Where..." The Red Hair rambled along.

Whitebeard cut him and answered loudly.

"He is pretty cheeky brat. He told me he was holding your hat for you, and while glaring at me he bluntly announced that _he_ was going to be the Pirate King."

The Red Hair brat burst laughing, clutching his stomach, his face was showing open joy and amusement.

"That's Luffy for you! If he is still taking care of my hat in nine years, I knew I bet on the right person."

"Are you doubting yourself? Brat!" Whitebeard asked him, intending on riling him up (too easy).

"Of course not," he denied hotly, smile still on his face.

"The shitty brat Roger seemed to approve too, he said that Rayleigh also approved."

"So Luffy met Rayleigh, I just told Rayleigh about Luffy three months ago ….that is so great and he approved of him...great." He was seemingly very pleased, smiling secretly at himself for job well done, forgetting that Whitebeard was even watching until the first part of the sentence penetrated his mind.

"Wait second, wait… Captain Roger also approves!? Really!?" He had astonished look on his face, then he laughed jovially and abruptly stopped himself.

"Wait second, you still didn't explain how you met Luffy?" He asked suspiciously, he seemed quite defensive.

"What do you think?" Whitebeard wondered loudly, curious what the brat would come with.

The brat hummed, scratching his jaw, and seemed to be considering this with heavy head.

"He challenged you." He finally declared with certainty.

Whitebeard laughed, his older brother most definitely did, and his younger brother...hmmm...with nostalgic smile on his face, he answered.

"In his own way he actually did, no, he did without doubt."

The Red Hair brat was listening in attention, drinking every word, Whitebeard elaborated on what he had said, "We met in a war."

"HUH!?" was his eloquent response, but he quickly got his equilibrium back and asked.

"A war against whom!? And you _lost!_?" Red Hair asked in disbelieving voice, his volume increasing with each word.

Red Hair blinked and before Whitebeard could consider answering, he continued with glee on his face.

"Wait, was it against me?" Then he added correcting himself with evident disappointment. "No, never mind… Luffy would not be involved then."

"You think too highly of yourself, shitty brat." Whitebeard told him, his eyes narrowed.

Red Hair laughed, shrugging his shoulders, as to say guilty as charged.

"Marines." Whitebeard finally revealed, stopping a sigh as the war flashed in his mind eye's.

Red Hair face changed to different expressions rabidly and finally settled to narrowed eyes, and he asked in dangerous tone.

"How the hell did Luffy get involved in this?"

"Trying to save his big brother," Whitebeard told him while sighing outwardly this time. They both failed, he and the brat had failed, _but_ not this time.

"Wait second, wait second, Luffy has brother?" Red Hair demanded, he seemed to be truly overwhelmed. _Not that Whitebeard can blame him._

"Not biologically, not that it matters. He would come to find you in five or six years to introduce himself and thank you for saving his brother's life."

Whitebeard omitted mentioning about who was really his biological father. Red Hair was one of the few people who would actually be happy and glad to meet him because of it, but no need to reveal too much and it was Ace's secret to tell.

The Red Hair had his head titled to the ground, his face hidden. He rubbed his head and took a deep breath and said, "Ok, ok….o…. ok," He was murmuring to himself and then he tilted his head upward to look at Whitebeard and announced.

"In nine years there will be a war...Luffy and his brother are involved, you would _die_...and meet Roger… he would ask you this _question_ and then send you back here..." he trailed off and then somberly added.

"...back here in time."

Red Hair was looking at Whitebeard waiting for confirmation (or maybe for denial, or for him to burst laughing).

Amused Whitebeard was staring back at him, he nodded.

"This sums it up pretty well!"

Red Hair sit at the ground where he was standing, more like laid on the ground, he took a deep breath, his eyes hidden behind his bangs and said bluntly.

"Ok, I am not drunk enough for this shit, tell... I don't know how or who … anyone to bring _more sake_ , it better be the good kind and a lot, and focus on a **lot.** "

Whitebeard bellowed his laugher.

The brat was right, he himself wasn't drunk enough to handle all of this shit.

He sat down back on his chair and called for his sons to bring more sake for them.

They brought several barrels of sake quickly, eyeing the Red Hair warily, who had a pensive look on his face, ignoring his surroundings.

Marco came down with them, eyeing the damage with look of disdain and gave him unimpressed look combined with raised questioning eyebrow.

Whitebeard gave him a shake of his head with pointed stare, he would speak with his eldest later. He had several things that he wanted done fast and covertly.

"Where do you want me to begin, brat?" Whitebeard asked when they were left alone again.

The Red Hair brat was startled back to reality by Whitebeard's voice and irritably answered.

"Well, from the beginning obviously!" Then he added immediately.

"No, how the hell did you die?"

Whitebeard raised an eyebrow at the incredulous tone. Was the Red Hair brat this confused? They already spoke about this.

"I mean, you said war, someone actually killed you in a war?" And _it wasn't me_ was left hanging in the air. _The little egoistic git, like his shit of a captain._

"It wasn't natural death." Whitebeard confirmed.

The Red Hair looked as if dying of old age was a horrid idea that never crossed his mind.

"In battle, you brat," he added, to get him out of the bubble he was stuck in.

"Ok, from the beginning please." Red Hair said, trying to get comfortable where he was _laying_ down.

"No, wait a second!" Red Hair demanded and immediately stood up.

Quickly moving to where the sake was, pouring to himself and then turning to Whitebeard, who nodded as the brat poured generously into Whitebeard's tankard.

The Red Hair brat took a long gulp and then three other consecutive gulps and filled the huge cup again and only then he sat comfortably and singled for him to begin, adding.

"You may start now."

Whitebeard in his turn took a long gulp, ignoring the brat's tone, and began speaking.

It took him more than three hours to explain everything he deemed important, the brat listened in attention, his reactions changing from horror to laughter to unbelieving at times, he seemed more than quite interested, his eyes shining when he spoke about Ace's younger brother and his role in the war.

They both were lost in thought after he had finished speaking, when Red Hair brat remarked.

"Don't you think it is quite the coincidence that you were sent to the day that we were meeting?"

Yes, whitebeard hummed, it was remarkable that he had _arrived_ in the one day that the Red Hair brat was on the Moby Dick.

"You're implying that the brat Roger was controlling which time to send me?"

The cheeky brat chuckled, and with knowing smile said.

"If this idea makes you uncomfortable, then it was Fate that sent you to this specific day."

Whitebeard continued his humming, waiting for the brat to get to the point, when he didn't, he asked.

"What's your point?"

"My point, what do you intend to do and why did you tell me?"

"You actually believe me?" Whitebeard asked what was on his mind bluntly, he knew that the Red Hair brat was going along but if the 'going along' transformed into believing he wasn't sure.

"The shit you just told me couldn't be made up and definitely not on the spot." Red Hair answered with blank face and added.

"And If I take out all the other alternatives, you're crazy, it's a prank, you have gone senile and add the fact that you can't be bothered to make such story up... and anyway what is the point of making this up! And you know things that you shouldn't know … It makes its own kind of sense in twisted way..." he trailed off and added after small pause.

"And we are speaking about Captain Roger here, the things he did and I saw as part of his crew, weren't what you would call normal even by the New World's standard."

"I didn't think I would ever hear _normal_ and his name in the same sentence." Whitebeard said, agreeing wholeheartedly with the last point. That shitty brat always did things his way, the hard and complex way, and pulled everyone along, ignoring their refusal crying and dragging feet.

Red Hair nodded his head in agreement, nostalgic grin on his face.

"It was more of an impulse."

Red Hair looked at him in confusion.

"All of this, telling you."

Shanks snorted in disbelief, but didn't call him on it, instead he straightened up, composing himself and asked.

"Then can I make a suggestion?"

"Oh?"

"An alliance between us."

Whitebeard relaxed his shoulders, his face blank, he did intend to have the brat be more actively involved in his future plans but a blunt suggestion of alliance and to be suggested by the brat himself, hmmm.. He didn't see this coming. _Interesting._

The worst nightmare of the marines, the look of horror on Sengoku's face and the five old men sitting in that room thinking they could control the world, hmmm…The possibilities were endless.

"Oh? Why would you want that?" He was really curious.

"You were sent by my Captain to this specific day and your fate is somehow tangled with Luffy and his brother."

He paused.

"And there is going to be a war either way."

Whitebeard nodded, he can't see how this was to be avoided.

"I was and would be involved either way, so I prefer to be in the _in_ this time," he continued.

"You are a reasonable man, so as your ally, as someone that has tied his fate with yours, I can speak with you freely without you being _too_ suspicious of my intention."

"Why would I listen to you?"

"You are reasonable man, well, compared to Captain Roger, and you chose to tell me, whatever your reason was I am the first one you told according to what you told me, there's a reason why! You clearly want something from me."

Whitebeard didn't bother to deny or react, keeping quiet.

The Red Hair brat had a lopsided grin while he cheekily added.

"...And you owe me!"

Whitebeard sighed, he knew he shouldn't had told him about intercepting the brat Kaido. He knew that it would came back and bite him in the ass … Hmmm.. and what to do about that annoying brat Kaido...hmm… he would think of something (the little brat needed some good knocking down or maybe a spanking).

Whitebeard pondered the alliance idea for few seconds.

"The whole thing and this alliance is a _secret._ " Whitebeard agreed and ordered in one breath.

Good opportunities should be taken, alliance gave him more control, especially if the brat suggested it. He would just need to be really careful, and see what the brat's true purpose was with this. He also couldn't have the other Yonkos finding about this alliance.

Kiado and Linlin each had their own schemes keeping them occupied, which was fine since he already knew the ones that that were related to his own territory. He would keep them out of his plans for as much as possible, _for now,_ so that his knowledge remained accurate.

The marines were his main concern right now, and them –anybody really— finding about an alliance between him and the Red Hair brat would change the whole boarding game; flipping it several time over, but maybe 'pre-emptive' action by the marines manipulated by him was what would … he needed to consider this… if he did that the other Yonkos would not stay quiet... even though he couldn't see an alliance working between those two violent and greedy scum.

His thread of thoughts was cut by the unhesitating voice of the brat in front of him.

"I give you my word."

The Red Hair brat nodded with solemn voice matching his solemn face.

Both of them raising their sake, staring at each other in the dead of the eye, drinking to make this new alliance as official as it could ever be.

The brat waited few seconds after finishing his drink before saying.

"Now, as your secret ally can I make another suggestion?"

Whitebeard sighed and tried to prepare himself mentally to hear plenty of future _suggestions_ from the _**new headache**_ _he just willingly acquired._

.

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 **So what your thought about this development? :)**

Thank you all for your reviews and motivation. Guests reviewers your answers are above. As each review is important me, Please use a name/nickname while you review ( _civilly_ , please) if you wish to receive an answer from me.

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 **I am happily to say that a new beta joined this story** **Black' Victor Cachat (go check his amazing stories)** **, who is helping me plan in detail for the complicated plots for this story. Yet I am busy with my other stories and a new job (month old,** _ **not so new**_ **) so my updating would take time.**

 **.**

 **Keep the motivation rollin' :D**


	4. The Swaying Future

**Author's note:**

 **.**

 **The chapter was beta'd by the wonderful Gerbilfriend and Black' Victor Cachat who both helped me a lot with grammar, paraphrasing, ideas and specially with their endless encouragement :D**

 **.**

 **Warnings:**

English is my fourth language. Warning may change in the future.

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 **Ame**

Thank you for your review! Happy to hear it was exciting. What do you think about the new development? XD

Hope you enjoy the new chapter. Looking forward to hear your thoughts.

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 **Guest**

Thank you! Happy to hear you enjoyed yourself! Yes, Whitebeard is a Wise-man but reckless too (he is a pirate too). "temporal detective" LOL, is one of the reason that I am taking my time with plots. Hope you enjoy yourself, look forward to your thoughts. Please use a name to review :)

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 **Midnight**

Thank you for all your wonderful reviews!

Happy to hear you enjoyed yourself!

I thought so too "too bad" is the way to go. :)

I look forward to what you think at what I intend to do to Teach, it will not be soon, but it will come.

Hope you find this the new chapter as fantastic as the last two. ;)

Let me know what you thought about his explanation.

Whitebeard does have a lot of luck, but this wasn't one of them (telling Shanks and believing him), it was one move he made, there more to come.

" Now all he's gotta do is kill Teach, save Ace, and stop a war!" .. oh, boy things are not that easy.

:D

Hope you enjoy the new chapter, let me know what you think.

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 **Tentaclechan**

Thank you for your review! Happy to hear you think it is great!

Hope you enjoy the new chapter, let me know what you think.

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 **Please read the notes in the end.**

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Shanks tucked his cloak tighter around him, making sure to hide his hair (having a unique hair was a real troublesome issue when you wanted to stay hidden. But _that_ was nothing to the number of questions he was asked by people oblivious to his true identity (mostly women, well, all of them were women) about his _hair_ , if it was natural? What kinds of shampoo and conditioner did he use to keep it so _silky..._ it made him consider going bald, but then Benny would clear his throat reminding him about the crew's name) and face as he moved quietly down the road looking for his target.

It was weird being back on Sabaody Archipelago so soon, he usually set foot on this place once every five years if he was lucky, now less than four months after the last time he had set foot on the archipelago, he was back..

His crew and especially Benny looked at him like he had lost the last of his marbles when he told them to sail immediately to Sabaody Archipelago after getting back from Whitebeard's ship without giving any explanation.

Lucky Roo had gone in _actual_ circles around him checking him and asking worriedly if he was okay, even going as far as offering him the chunk of meat in his hand.

They had all been shaken when what was supposed to have been a friendly visit broke into a battle, which the crew had described as being like the sea and heavens were at war with one another. They were not sure what they should do. Benny had taken control of the situation, as expected from his first mate, he hurriedly made the appropriate preparation for a full-scale battle, while also making sure everyone held their position and did nothing until their captain gave them a signal.

When they insisted on being told what on earth had happened, he replied a bit snappily that no they were not going back to Paradise or the Blues for another long voyage (Lucky Roo was really disappointed, he thought they were going to surprise Luffy and for few seconds Shanks entertained the idea with a wistful heart, if he should 'kidnap' Luffy and his brother and the hell with everything else, they would be both safe with him… but shit it was complicated like F**k….), and went on to tell them it was only a very short visit to Paradise and to stop having their knickers in a twist (that distracted them alright, they had several chosen words to tell him loudly and repeatedly).

Benny even took him aside and demanded be given the _facts_ , his first mate was quite observant and couldn't be distracted so easily. He had already made the connection that it was somehow related to what happened on Whitebeard's ship by his repeated questions about what had occurred there and what had exactly happened for him to lose his temper, it was supposed to be a _friendly_ visit after all.

But Shanks stubbornly refused to answer and ordered they set sail. Benny only nodded and obeyed but he clearly wasn't happy, and Shanks could see clearly several private confrontations in his own near future; Shanks really wasn't looking forward to them. He didn't usually keep secrets from his first mate (too much work, why bother?).

He should have asked Whitebeard permission to tell Benny at least, but dammit his brain was not working as it should have been. Time travel, who would have thought? And it was all Captain's Roger fault. Even in the afterlife he needed things to go his way, Dahahahahaha!

The way Whitebeard spoke about Captain Roger and their meeting, he didn't seem to be happy, no, he seemed downright pissed bordering on murderous.

Shanks had to use all his willpower to hold in his amused laughter in and not show too much enjoyment at the other Yonko's plight.

Good thing Captain Roger was smart enough to send Whitebeard (assuming he could control the 'sending', or else he was sooooo unimaginably lucky...) to a time when he was already dead. If he had sent Whitebeard to time where the Captain was still alive, things would have been quite entertaining. Captain Roger and them (his lucky crew, or maybe unlucky, he could imagine Buggy yelling WHY ME?) would have to deal with enraged pissed Yonko that was after his head with single-minded pursuit fueled with overwhelming need for vengeance (basically wanting to beat the shit out of him constantly).

Shanks would have to ask Whitebeard permission to tell Benny next time they spoke for sure, shit ...he needed to speak with someone about all of this. Several people.

He did understand the need of secrecy. No, not really, shit, most people wouldn't believe them if they screamed in the open about it. No, he was still having hard time believing it himself… the only thing he didn't find hard believing was about Luffy, hearing that the now seven, or was he eight right now, had grown to be an excellent pirate, so great as to impress both Whitebeard and Rayleigh, no, even Captain Roger. Shit! It was awesome, breathtaking and very thrilling to hear that!

What was less awesome to hear (downright frightening and upsetting), was about the war, and what brought to it.

Marshall D. Teach, hearing that scum name made his scars ache.

Whitebeard refused (was furious when Shanks questioned him about it) to reveal what he had planned for the bastard (there was no mistake he had planned something!), but the look in Whitebeard's eyes and his aura told him whatever it was it was going to be very ( _extremely_ ) far from pleasant. He would try asking about it again (this time a bit more subtly) when he spoke with Whitebeard via the Den Den Mushi and suggest his help. Seeing and being involved with plan to bring the bastard downfall and seeing him get what he deserved would bring Shanks an immense joy.

But first they needed to find those White Den Den Mushi's that they lost during one of their drinking sprees, he was almost sure that they were somewhere in the ship. He couldn't remember the last time he needed to use one (Regular Den Den Mushi worked just fine!). Dammit how was he going to explain having Whitebeard's number to Benny, maybe he should ask…. They definitely needed to somehow get more of those White Den Den Mushi. Those little things cost a fortune, he would need to find a really good reason to why they were cutting from their drinking budget… _it_ was the equation for deadly headache! (and dammit all! He wouldn't have sake at hand to cure it).

He turned the next corner, choosing to use the back alleys, moving quietly as he tried to put order to his loud, jumbled thoughts.

Maybe after he spoke to someone about the whole thing he would be able to feel better, or be able to put everything in some kind of perspective. Because he didn't even know where to begin to even _think_ about all this.

Now, how was he supposed to explain it to…..hell, he didn't know where to begin, Shanks concluded, having stopped moving. He had arrived, and was staring at the back of Rayleigh's head. He was where Shakky said he would be, by the port in Grove Nine speaking to some people, probably about coating.

Shanks was lost in his thoughts, not sure how to approach him, how to begin this conversation when Rayleigh turned around, spotting Shanks, he moved over to him with smile accompanied with raised eyebrow and asked "Shanks, what brings you back so soon?"

Rayleigh frowned when no answer was forthcoming.

"Everything is okay?"

Shanks opened his mouth still unsure of what to say, when he suddenly knew exactly what he needed to say.

"If you had the choice to do your journey again would you take it?" trying to repeat the words, the same way he remembered Captain Roger doing.

"Huh, why are you repeating Roger's words so suddenly?"

He knew it, something was unusual (he refused to use fishy) going on with these words, the whole thing really was f**king strange to say the least.

"Shanks?" Rayleigh called his name, his face showing clear worry combined with confusion.

"I brought some good sake with me, a _lot_. Let's go bring it and then we can have our chat."

Rayleigh raised eyebrow in puzzlement about the sudden shift in the conversation.

"We need to be drunk, _extremely drunk_ , to have the coming conversation." Shanks turned and began moving to where his ship was anchored, Rayleigh quietly following him closely. Close enough to hear Shanks muttering.

"Trust me, you want to be as drunk as possible."

….

Shanks had his crew leave them on a deserted island nearby with a lot of sake, and ordered them to check on them after several hours. He handed Rayleigh a bottle before grabbing one for himself, popping the cork to begin drinking. It took him a half an hour of drinking to be able to begin speaking, and once he began, he couldn't stop. He wasn't sure if he was making any sense, but Rayleigh was listening attentively, his face neutral, not disturbing him or showing anything on his face, only taking gulps of sake every few minutes. By the time he finished more than half of the sake they brought was gone.

Shanks felt drained yet he felt clearer headed and relaxed, he was not sure if it was because he shared out loud what was in his mind with someone else or because he was pleasantly buzzed (extremely drunk).

"Why did you suggest an alliance to him?"

"Why? Do you think it was a mistake?" Shanks asked immediately, he had his _issues_ with this suggestion, but it seemed the best option then, for him to have some kind of way in, some kind of control on the unpredictable moves that Whitebeard was planning, any move by him could shake the Grand Line, no, the world, he would be affected; **everyone** would be.

"No, I think it was the right thing to do under the circumstances, but I am curious, why did you choose that?"

"Whitebeard always had the upper hand." Shanks somberly said.

Rayleigh raised an eyebrow at this announcement as much as the tone the words were voiced in.

"Now, even more." Shanks continued in the same voice.

"Oh?"

Rayleigh gave him a look of wonder; he hadn't expected this answer.

Shanks laughed.

"No, don't get me wrong, I am actually relieved in way that it is _him._ "

"That he has the upper hand or that he was the one to come back in time?"

"Both." Shanks answered and paused for second considering the issue before adding.

"...Kinda, the time travel thing and knowledge about the future still freaks me out."

Muttered Shanks irritability, he sighed and took a gulp of the sake before saying.

"I guess I have to make it clearer."

Rayleigh didn't say anything, but had clear amusement in his face.

Shanks tried to put his disordered thoughts in some kind of order.

"We both know that Whitebeard is strong. Him being called the Strongest Man In The World is not for show. I always felt safe somehow that the Gura Gura fruit was with him, and not someone else..." he paused again and added, his voice even more somber and dark.

"...Imagine such power with some other person?" _Like Teach?_ He shuddered thinking about it and took another gulp _._

"Agreed, things could be disastrous." Rayleigh nodded, mirroring him by taking a long gulp on his own.

"Add to it his knowledge of future events and his resolve to do something _this_ time _."_ Murmured Shanks, he felt like rubbing his head, but that meant the bottle of sake leaving his hand, _no F**king way_.

Rayleigh had a serious look, considering this with heavy head.

"For a pirate, he is very responsible and sensible, well, when you don't piss him off too much." Shanks felt like he had to add the last bit, not sure if he was saying it to himself or to Rayleigh.

Really, you moron airheads marines –really, Sengoku, you should be smarter than that—, messing with his family, with man that had the power to destroy the world with just a bunch of punches, you idiotic morons! …You just had to wake the beast… Now armed with knowledge about the future and thirst for revenge… oh… shit... 'God (if you do exist, those morons need you more than ever) have mercy on the unfortunate poor souls', or that what he wanted to say, but the more he thought about it, the more he decided instead that, _'…You reap what you sow…'_ Even if it was yet to happen and probably wouldn't happen in the same way.

"Whitebeard never sought more power, he is all about his precious family," Rayleigh muttered, his thoughts in agreement.

"Yes, exactly." _Thank goodness about that too…. or maybe not._

Messing with his family (in the future, which you did, you moron marines) was going to bring whole lot of unnecessary destruction and a lot of future blood shed… much sooner this time.

"The Marines are going to challenge him either way, he is old, he doesn't pick fights if you don't come asking for one… They think he's past his prime, and would want to take him out before age or someone else does. …It'll be inevitable." Rayleigh muttered.

Let's attack him first before _someone else_ steals the glory of taking down the Strongest Man in the World. They wanted it be just like Captain Roger's execution. Those moron airhead marines.

In the future and now they had a huge surprise waiting for them.

'Whitebeard was old and weak, the songs calling him the Devil was merely an old grannies tales they said'. Those imbecilic dolts.

 _Despite being a fellow Emperor, Shanks still needed to use every drop of concentration and power to fight him on equal footing, and if he had slipped up for one millisecond he would have been a goner_ , Shanks thought, remembering with vivid clarity their fight (the quantity of sake in him not blurring those memories, but making them sharp), Whitebeard was not even using his devil fruit ability (and to be truthful Shanks had not gone all out with his Haki either).

"He didn't tell me everything…" there were a lot of instance that Shanks felt that he was getting half the picture, especially about the war.

Rayleigh snorted, as if telling him: _what were you expecting?_

"But … I could tell he is already scheming … I would not be surprise if by the time I had found you he already had put several plans in motion..." which worried him a lot, especially because he was yet to communicate with Whitebeard since their meeting. Those blasted White Den Den Mushi, he should ask Rayleigh about purchasing some for them (he should enjoy his sake while he can, he took a long gulp). Rayleigh most likely still had several sources from when he was their first mate, a captain like Roger didn't take notice of the logistic stuff.

"And by telling you he sucked you right in, it could've been another scheme from him," Rayleigh remarked, pointing it out for him.

"Of course," nodded Shanks, "Whitebeard thought of me as an _ally_ , with the fact that I interfered in the future and stopped Kaido from delaying his arrival to the war and I care about Luffy and the fact we have a common _enemy_." Shanks stressed the last word, his irritation showing.

"Teach, huh" muttered Rayleigh soberly, "I want to say that I was surprised to discover that treachery was his true colors, but I can't."

Shanks nodded, he _knew_. It was enough to meet him once, to feel the foul aura emitting from him. He would never understand how Whitebeard failed to see it. Resignedly, he took a gulp of sake, shaking himself from his dark thoughts and continued explaining his choice by saying.

"So if I am going to be sucked into it anyway, either by trying to stop it or joining it directly or otherwise..." Shanks paused looking for the right words.

"That's why I prefer to be _**in**_ the decision making process as an _ally_. I am not that naive, I know that Whitebeard won't tell me everything or discuss everything with me beforehand. But if there even a slight chance that I can influence his decisions or put stop to something without any need for fight or if just my presence can tip the _balance_ , then I had to take it."

Shanks signed, taking a long gulp of sake, he added.

"Captain Roger sent him back for a reason, as his former crew mate I have to take more active action … and the new era is coming closer ... _Luffy_ is going to bring it, I have no doubt of it, so I owe him to make the stage ready for him… " _this time_. Not safe, but ready.

Piracy was never about safety but about a wild unstoppable freedom, at least in his eyes.

"Apparently Roger and I approve of him, this is making me more curious," Rayleigh said, stroking his bread.

"Yes, and so is Whitebeard. You had to see him speaking about Luffy." Shanks told him, laughing a bit. _Luffy had left a lasting impression,_ Shanks wished he had seen the confrontation between them. Oh Luffy, only you could yell that you would rescue your brother without any help and you were the one to become the pirate king in the middle of a battle. He really wanted to see it. The image brought a joyous smile to his lips which disappeared when he heard Rayleigh's next words.

"We know that _when_ the One Piece is revealed there would be _confrontations_ , it is inevitable... and it's why we decided the world was yet to be ready..."

'One Piece,' the name Roger had given, it seemed fitting then, more so now, to think that words he properly said as joke knowing him, would be echoed years later by every person alive today, inspiring the generation to come. When the One piece was revealed...

It would be chaos, the world thought that Roger by becoming the King of Pirates and _conquering_ the Grand Line had _rocked_ the boat. Shanks snorted, oh, you just wait and see the F**king blowing storm that the One Piece would bring, throwing the boat several times upside down, sideways and for the finale of an almost never-ending roller coaster.

The world would never be ready, but it didn't matter, the truth would surface someday. He might even be alive to see it.

They both had solemn face, remembering the gravity of what they knew, and had to bear the burdens of knowing, while other continued to live their mundane lives, worrying about stupid daily things, thinking that those were the gravest things they would ever face...

"Beginning to prepare now, with the information we know about what to come would be the sensible thing to do." Shanks finally muttered, he didn't sound sure in his own ears, this matter was one of the few things he was unsure about, he always felt out of his depth when thinking about the One Piece.

"True, but you knew things would change. No, things had already changed, by telling you and you telling me, things changed..." Rayleigh told him.

"I said the same to Whitebeard."

Messing with time and not expecting it to go pear shaped on you was stupid and naive. Well, it was very appropriate to Captain Roger not to care.

"Oh?"

"He said having the same voyage would be boring, and that Captain Roger wished him _a wild ride_." Shanks recited his words, smiling. _Whitebeard does not seem to care either, both of them (Whitebeard and Captain Roger) were too much alike,_ he thought privately amused. He should probably never mention this to Whitebeard (he could imagine his reaction, it wouldn't be pretty).

"That's so Roger," laughed Rayleigh merrily, and then stopped, composing himself, he asked.

"So, let's get to the important point, shall we? Why did you tell _me_?"

"I want you to go meet Whitebeard." Shanks announced, his face solemn and paused.

"I want you to join our alliance."

Whitebeard was not convinced, but he agreed in the end for him to tell Rayleigh and to arrange a meeting with him. It was probably just to shut him up, Whitebeard was rubbing his head in the end an awful a lot.

Rayleigh had an unreadable expression on his face which changed swiftly to amusement.

"So, you were sucked _in_ and now you want me to be sucked in with you?" Asked Rayleigh with amusement clearly written in his face.

Shanks shrugged, not bothering with denying any of it and while drinking, he said.

"As my first mate's motto was back when I was a wet-behind-the-ears apprentice, ' _If I am going down_ _,_ _so are you_ '."

His said ex-first mate choked in his drink, laughing.

…

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XXXXX

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…

Shanks asked quietly, so that only Rayleigh could hear, before climbing onto the _Red Force_ , minding his watching, waiting crew.

"When did he ask you about it?"

It was the first thing he wanted to ask but it slipped his mind with everything going on.

Shanks realized his question was vague after he uttered it and was about to explain that he meant Captain Roger's question when Rayleigh answered, with thoughtful look crossing his face.

"Hmmm ….He asked me the question three time. The last one was before he surrendered himself to the marines, I asked Roger then what about you?"

Shanks waited, holding his breath to hear...

"Roger told me no, he couldn't think of anything that he could have done differently to make our journey more prefect."

…

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XXXXX

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...

 _He failed, no, he was not even given the chance to even try._

 _Dammit,_

 _Dammit._

 _He knew he might not be able to do anything._

 _But it still hurt._

 _It hurt so much, his heart felt like it was going to burst._

 _He felt like he was suffocating, drowning in his own misery and failure and began gasping for air, trying all the while to stay quiet as not to wake the sleeping figure beside him._

 _Dammit._

 _Dammit, why? Why, he had the worst luck._

 _He was not sure anymore if he could do it._

 _If he could continue moving forward._

 _If he could protect…_

 _If he could look and care for them as he should, no better than that, and …_

 _Shit._

 _He failed him._

 _Again._

 _Shit, dammit, F**k._

 _He took a long breath and then another, looking at the peacefully sleeping face beside him, slumbering peacefully unaware of the turmoil and torment his wide awake companion was experiencing._

 _He felt his heart slowing down._

 _And he shouldn't know. Never._

 _Another deep breath then another, he clutched his hands together, almost drawing blood._

 _He would try._

 _He had promised._

 _A tiny hope blooming inside him._

 _With those thoughts, he put his head near his companion's head, and engulfed him in a protective embrace before his tiredness got the best of him and sleep claimed him._

 _ **He would not fail him again.**_

 _._

 _._

 _._

 **So, what your thought about this** _ **new**_ **development? :)** **and what do you think the last part was about?**

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Thank you all for your reviews and motivation. Guests reviewers your answers are above.

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 **From your last reviews, I get the impression that you think this story is going to be short and "uncomplicated", well I am happy to shatter any of your illusions ;), things are going to get more complicated and interesting the longer we go.**

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 **Keep the motivation rollin' :D leave a review.**


	5. Blood

**Author's note:**

 **.**

 **The chapter was beta'd by the wonderful Gerbilfriend and Black' Victor Cachat who both helped me a lot with grammar, paraphrasing, ideas and especially with their endless encouragement :D**

 **.**

 **Warnings:**

English is my fourth language. Warning may change in the future.

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 **Guest**

Thank for your review.

Using the word 'brat' isn't only about Age. yeah, you can call someone a brat even if he is older than you. It can be a dig or an insult, maybe even meant as the person a brat 'mentally'. Whitebeard even show his affection by calling Luffy "cheeky brat". Don't take the use of the word alone, but look at the context and the personality of the speaker.

Hope you enjoy the new chapter :)

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 **Please read the notes in the end.**

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Die, die, die, die, die, die.

 _Die_

 **Die**

DIE!

They should all die.

Humans were never to be trusted. They should all die.

Big brother Tiger was dying. He might be already dead.

Arlong couldn't stay in that room hearing big brother last words anymore. His dying wishes.

Dying.

Because of those filthy humans. Nothing but slaving scum the lot of them.

Those scum humans were at fault. Always. The world would be better place without them.

He continued to pace on the deck, his anger and hate boiling inside of him. He was ready to burst. Any second.

The few that followed him to the deck after he left his Big brother side. Hatchan, Pisaro and Kuroobi had left him here alone after feeling on their skin his fury. They dared not to try to calm him down when Big Brother was dying. He destroyed one of the ex-Navy ship's masts in his fit of anger. He should destroy it. All of it.

They were on the damn marine battleship that they stole fleeing from the marines' ambush.

Their own ship had been destroyed and their captain had been shot again and again.

Brother was going to die in this wretched place.

Yet Arlong could do nothing.

He punched the rail with rage, breaking the metal in half with his superior, Fishman strength. His heart squeezed in misery and grief.

He should have killed her. The little girl they had brought aboard like saps. _Koala_.

It was all damn Jinbe and Hatchan's fault. They stopped him when he beat her once she had first boarded the Sun Pirates ship. Human on their ship. Fishmen's ship.

He should have kept hitting her, again and again until she stopped her fake smiling for good. Like those filthy humans shot Big brother again and again. After Big brother had returned her to the _embrace_ of her loving family. They betrayed him, showing their true colors. Repaid him with bullets to the back.

A little sweet girl huh… she was the spawn of those devils, she was a devil herself. If he had killed her, brother wouldn't have come to this place to bring her back home, those fucking marines and _poor_ humans wouldn't have been able to ambush him, he….

Big Brother Tiger had told him thousands of times not to kill humans _unnecessarily_. Otherwise, they would stoop to the humans level.

They should stoop much lower. Much, much lower.

Arlong paced and paced, his rage intensifying with each step. Regret and hate filling his heart.

He should have killed this little shit girl. She was a human, the bane of every evil. Big or small mattered none. They were demons, evil! Even big brother knew that.

Human needed to be slaughtered. To know their place. Crawling to the Fishmen's feet. (Or fins or tails). Their betters.

The words he just heard and tried not to dwell on echoed in his mind.

Big brother Tiger's choked voice. His crying face was etched into Arlong's memory.

He left. But the image was still clear in his eyes' mind.

He was alone on the deck. Alone with his rage. To pace and destroy this filthy place. A marines' ship. Humans.

He had heard Aladine soft request not to destroy it too much when they first boarded, running for their lives. They needed it to sail away and treat Big Brother. But they didn't need it anymore. Brother was dying, there was no more need for the ship. They were Fishmen, the sea was their home. They didn't need ships like those inferior humans to sail the sea. It was nature call for them.

He stared at the huge mast in front of him. Of course, humans needed masts and sails. Bigger and bigger or else they will never reach them. Catch them. Make them submit.

He closed his fists and punched, again and again.

He felt nothing, Big Brother face and words didn't vanish.

 _ **I was a slave!**_

Those filthy scum had made someone as strong and powerful as Big Brother a slave. _Slave_.

Punch and another. The sound of wood splintering and cracking give him a slight feeling of satisfaction.

Those shitty assholes had dared … they marked him, put their filthy mark on him. The Sun tattoo on his chest was there to hide his own mark of ownership. Big Brother Tiger marked the little ungrateful human girl with their jolly roger. A tattoo to hide the slavers mark, like he did to himself. He said it was to free her, to free him. But it was to hide his shame! All because of those foul shits. Humans.

 _ **What I saw there was the insanity of humans.**_

The world would be better served without the human filth. They only brought destruction and misery. They were all insane and cruel. They should all die.

Fishmen should slaughter the humans, not save them. Make the world fear Fishmen. They were the strongest race. Fishmen were superior. Humans should bow and cower before them.

Arlong didn't even flinch when the mast fell to the side of ship, cracking the deck and dragging the sails and rolling widely to fall all the way to the sea. Two down and another two to go.

 _ **I fled for my life, but I couldn't just forget about all those slaves I saw…**_

That was Big brother's ultimate goal. Freeing the oppressed.

He built this crew and brought them all together to help the slaves, to free them. Humans and Fishmen. But they should have left the humans to rot there. If they did, big brother would not be on his deathbed.

He told Big Brother that they should instill fear in humans by using ruthlessness and extreme brutality. But Big Brother refused to listen.

 _ **Listen carefully. I did things that I wanted, and I interfered with Queen Otohime as result. But she is right.**_

She was wrong. Always wrong. Peace between them was impossible. Big Brother didn't interfere. He saved lives. Ungrateful assholes that he should have left to horrors death.

They should all die.

Arlong strode and stared with unseeing eyes at the mast.

 _ **Everybody wants peace of course. But the only people who can make difference on that island…are the children of the next generation like Koala who aren't prejudiced.**_

He was wrong. Wrong. It was because of this little shit.. They should had left her there… beat her to death…why return her? Why save her? Little human scum. Her village sold them out without a second thought. It was a trap. The little sweet human monster was a bait to lure them here. They were waiting for Big Brother to get back from returning the human girl when they heard the shots from the village direction and marine battleships suddenly surrounded them. How else could they have known where to wait so perfectly to ambush them?

Humans were selfish ungrateful filth. MONSTERS. He would find them and make every last one of them pay for their betrayal. He would destroy the whole village.

 _ **So, please! Don't tell the people on the island anything. Neither the tragedy we endured nor of our anger towards humans.**_

He had protested hearing those words. He had raged inside and out, with unstoppable angry tears in his eyes mirroring the tears in big brother eyes. The Fishmen back home should know of the human lies and cruelty. That what Queen Otohime spoke of was mere illusion. There was no way for humans and Fishmen to coexist.

But big brother Tiger called his name in anger and anguish. It still echoes in his ears.

Arlong would follow Big Brother last wish. He would think of it as his last order. He will take his big brother's tale and death to his grave. But no more.

He thrust his hand forward, hitting it with fever, cracks and splinters appearing on the mast.

 _ **There are so many humans that are compassionate.**_

No, there wasn't. All of them were monsters. The compassionates and smiles they wore were fake masks. And even if they were. So what. If they are so compassionate, then they can kill themselves and make his job easier.

 _ **I know but it's … funny...the dying leave only their resentment behind.**_

Arlong was going to feed his soul with this resentment. He was going let it gnaw on his bones and use it as a weapon. He would slaughter them. Make them see, hear and feel only fear. Drown in it.

 _ **And even though I knew that there are kind humans, there is a devil inside me that is clouding my thoughts.**_

Yes, that what he would become a devil and eradicate the evil of humans. All of them.

 _ **My whole body rejects their blood.**_

Damn it, damn it. DAMN IT TO HELL! _Why was it like this_ _!?_ He would have given every drop of his blood if he could save Big Brother. He would dry himself up. But none of them were a match to Big Brother. NONE. His blood type was very rare. Only the blood in the marine infirmary was a match. A human blood.

 _ **I can't … love humans.**_

Arlong stopped, not bothering to look at his handiwork.

Love… humans knew of no such feeling. They can't. They knew only of hate, cruelty and greed.

He shouldn't have listened to Big Brother and killed her. Killed every last one of them.

Big brother said it himself that he preferred to die and not to take their filthy blood inside of his body. Blood filled with their hate towards Fishmen. Death was more merciful than having their tainted blood inside of him.

Arlong clenched his fists hard. Drawing blood that all his punching wasn't able to accomplish and not caring.

He would leave and find those humans. The villagers and the marines responsible for this. That was his first step. They will pay. Blood is the only price he will accept.

The ship suddenly swayed. Its motions were unnatural. The weather hadn't changed yet the sea …. Had the marines found them? Intending on finishing the job… he will show them.

Arlong looked around in suspicious moving forward trying to find any ship on the horizon, any hint of the human filth.

A sudden thump, made him freeze. It was close. The sound came from behind him.

"Ah… good.. So this is the right ship. You are... Arlong… right?"

Arlong turned abruptly, to face the speaker. His stance and posture ready to hail attacks.

.

He relaxed.

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It was a Fishman. Not a human.

He unclenched his fisted hands and stared at the newcomer.

He didn't recognize him. He wasn't from their crew. Yet, somehow he knew Arlong.

The newcomer was shark Fishman with a shark-like teeth. His teeth stick out of his mouth from his lower jaw similar to Jinbe, but unlike Jinbe he has three small teeth on each side instead of one large. He also has three pairs of gills on his neck. His wet hair was still arranged in spikes pointing upwards. He has the number 8 tattooed to the left side of his neck. The unfamiliar Shark Fishman turned a bit around, his eyes scanning the deck, assessing the damage with cold detachment, and Arlong saw a gray shark fin protruding from his back.

Arlong was about to demand his name and purpose, his anger placed –temporarily— aside to assess this new development.

"Where is Jinbe? Or Captain Tiger…. It was hard tracking you down ….. Why are you on Marine ship by the way? What happened to yours...? Hmmm…?"

He looked at Arlong expectantly, and Arlong opened his mouth and then shrugged.

Unable to utter the words out loud. What could he say?

Our Captain was dying. Dead. All because of those filthy traitorous humans.

The Fishman looked familiar. Had Arlong known him from the Fishman District where he, Jinbe and several of the crew grown up? Arlong's eyes returned to the tattoo below the left jaw bone. 8. It stirred something inside of his mind.

"Anyway... Where is your captain? Or Jinbe... I have an urgent message from Oyaji."

And it finally clicked.

This was a traitor. The worst kind. A traitor to his own race. A Fishman that had joined a human. Was under him. Following him.

The piece garbage in front of him had joined Whitebeard. The misguided morons back home believed him to be a hero. The human hero that freed Fishman Island from the tyranny of other humans.

A hero. Huh… he was like the other filth, making their home his turf. They were a mere piece of land belonging to him. A Showoff. _Claiming_ Arlong's people!

The fact that their moron of king asked the human for help made it all the more despicable. It showed he was weak. It gritted on Arlong's nerves. That they -the strongest creatures -needed help from mere a _human_.

"What does your shitty master wants from us, you traitorous dog!?" Arlong raged loudly. Unleashing the roaring storm inside of him.

"Oi… what..."

"That filth human thinks we will do his bidding! Finally showing his true colors! Hero _my ass_!"

"Hey, watch it! I don't know what crawled up your ass and died! But don't you dare speak like that about Oyaji!"

"Or what? You will show me my place. Bring me to heel to your _ohhh_ heroic master."

The Fishman in front of him bared his teeth. It seemed like he wanted to bite off Arlong's head. He can try. Arlong will show him.

Both of them tensed their bodies, adopting an attack stance while moving forward menacingly, slowly... Their eyes assessing. Looking for an opening, a weakness.

"What is going on here?!" bellowed Jinbe. He was striding hurriedly to their direction, trailing behind him were several of the crew.

Arlong shouting had altered them that something was wrong, and they hurried to check, afraid of another attack. They are yet to recover from the last one.

"Arlong..."

"Stay out of it, Jinbe," spitted Arlong. Venom lacing his voice. His eyes not leaving the traitorous Fishman in front of him. No, he was not one of them but a dog in service of lowly human.

"Jinbe….I have come to..." the other shark Fishman relaxed his stance, ignoring Arlong's presence, and begin speaking.

Yet Jinbe ignored him, not giving him even a glance and strode up standing in between them.

Staring at Arlong with unconcealed rage.

"Our big brother… Captain... is dying and that's what you are doing..." Jinbe bellowed at him, his fists clenched hard, glaring at Arlong with despair.

"Captain Tiger is dying?" the Fishman-dog asked alarmed. "How? Why?" he demanded looking around him for an explanation.

"He lost a lot of blood..." murmured Hatchan, he was looking worried and distressed. His eyes darting from Arlong to Jinbe.

"His blood type isn't in the infirmary…?" the intruder asked in hesitation. As if just remembering that this was a human ship.

Everyone tensed up. Eyes colored with indignation and sadness. Eyes refusing to meet the intruder's gaze. Shying away.

He was the only one that could see Jinbe's face turn ashen, his shoulder tensing up even more.

None of them wanting to acknowledge the truth.

Yes, there was. But only filthy human blood. Blood that Big brother rejected with all his body. With all his might.

Arlong didn't let him finish the question. His eyes not shying from meeting the dog's eyes.

"No! He wouldn't be dying you filthy dog, if there was." Arlong shouted. Human blood meant no blood.

The Fishman didn't seem bothered by Arlong's outburst. Instead he calmly stretched his hand, touching Jinbe's tensed shoulder and turning him slowly to face him.

"What is his blood type?"

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I needed a lot of M&M's and hot shower after writing this (ask my betas). Send me some chocolate (or reviews, I am not that picky). My first time writing Arlong (I did write Big Mom, Blackbeard, and Akainu in my other stories, my less favorite characters). It was hard, very hard. Hate, racism, grief, and revenge seeking -all together- isn't my 'cup of tea' as writer. But I hope that I was able to reflect his thoughts 'realistically'.

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 **Thank you all for your reviews, PM and motivation. I am doing better and I had a lot of fun reading all of your theories. You would need to read on to find if any of you were right ;)**

Guests reviewers your answers are above.

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Few general remarks:

1\. The scene in the last chapter (ch 4 The Swaying Future) with Shanks complaining about his hair inspired me to write a rant by drunk Shanks. Story named **Shanks's Hair Trouble** : An extremely drunk Shanks face his mightiest enemy yet, his Hair. Shanks isn't sure who would win, but he would prevail…kinda…maybe. Starring an 'Evil' Benny-Roo, scissor and butt jokes. You have been warned. Inspiration is from the story **D Sway the Waves of Time. **

While at it check my other stories. Especially the stories I am collaborating with two awesome Writers. Stories: **ReunionS ** and **One Piece: Luffy's Mother is WHO?**.

 **2\. Kerzenlich** t from archiveofourown wrote story inspired by this story named **Prevailing Darkness.** (I am not sure how I feel about it yet, but it's interesting read, check it out :D)

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 **Keep the motivation rollin' :D leave a review (or M &Ms).**


	6. Two Old Dudes

**Author's note:**

 **.**

 **The chapter was beta'd by the wonderful Gerbilfriend and Black' Victor Cachat who both helped me a lot with grammar, paraphrasing, ideas and especially with their endless encouragement :D**

 **.**

 **Warnings:**

English is my fourth language. **Spoilers to** **Chapter 909**. Warning may change in the future.

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 **My new awesome Cover image by YametaStudio. THANK YOU.**

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 **Guest**

Thank you for your review! :)

I suffered a lot to write Arlong, glad it was worth it.

Hope you enjoy the new chapter! Looking forward to read your thoughts!

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 **Tialakit**

Thank you for your review! :)

Hmmmmm …. Not telling… but I hope you are prepared to eat or not eat a hat (it better be a really big hat!) … really don't know ;)

Hope you enjoy the new chapter! Looking forward to read your thoughts!

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The moon and the stars that usually decorated the night sky of the New World were hidden behind the thick layer clouds but he could still see the figure of the ship in front of him clearly.

The _Moby Dick_ was as impressive as ever.

Rayleigh was supposed to set foot on it in few minutes and it was bringing up a feeling of almost unbearable nostalgia. It was strange to go to the ship alone, without Roger, without picking a fight, but for an _alliance._

No, this was not accurate, he was sitting foot on it _because_ of Roger; because that bastard had done it again. Roger was always taking control of his life, even when he wasn't _even alive_.

Rayleigh could see his laughing face, telling him ' _not my fault, dear friend, but destiny's. Destiny and your will is what brought you here.'_

Shakky said that she hadn't seen him this energetic since, well, he preferred not remember _that accident_.

Shakky, his dear wife, didn't bat an eye when he told her that he was leaving, and that it would take few weeks at most. She gave him her all-knowing look, and with a smile she embraced him and told him to take his time. He got the vibe that he wouldn't be seeing her for a while.

Hmmmm... He would have to see about that! What could he and Whitebeard speak about that would make him stay on the _Moby Dick_?! He couldn't see himself staying for any reason. He might not be part of the Roger's crew anymore, but he would not join his greatest rival (previously or not!), even if Roger himself had sent him. Being part of another crew was a betrayal, he felt, to his own dreams, past and present.

Even on those rare dark nights when nostalgia, loss and isolation attacked his mind, and alcohol filled his body to the brim and he felt he was just existing without a purpose or dream. They all had died with _his_ death. Without Shakky to anchor him to life, he might have departed without seeing the new era coming. He would have left it to the young generation – Shanks, Buggy… – to lead and guide the charge.

Rayleigh was about to use a candle and mirror to signal of his arrival –no need to begin this meeting on the wrong foot– when he suddenly blinked.

A blinding light was being directed directly at him, he squinted once more, shielding his eyes.

No need, they already saw him. He should be ready; things could still go south.

Yet they didn't.

"We were waiting for you," was the abrupt greeting delivered by Third Commander Jozu –if Rayleigh remembered his name right—. The commander was a huge man who had his impressively muscular arms crossed over his chest as he waited for Rayleigh to board.

Whitebeard was being careful in his own home, good.

Taking any unnecessary risk was the path for disasters.

Rayleigh adjusted the black cloak he had been wearing to conceal himself, and slung his big bag over his shoulder. For further disguise, he merely climbed up the rope ladder as opposed to leaping straight onto the massive ship.

Jozu quietly moved in front of him, hiding him with his huge figure. The deck was empty; he couldn't feel any presence.

Oh, he couldn't feel the Phoenix's presence either. Using his Observation Haki Rayleigh expanded his search, but no, the Phoenix was not in the ship, nor anywhere nearby. Strange for him to not be here when an old enemy was visiting his home.

Jozu stopped in front of a big door, he knocked, getting a muffled grunt in response, opened the door and gestured for Rayleigh to get in.

Rayleigh took several steps in to face a sitting Whitebeard, he was eyeing the small unimpressive room in which their secret conversation would occur in, when he heard the door close quietly behind him.

"Took you a long time to get here, Rayleigh. The brat should have told you everything a month ago."

Typical Whitebeard greeting, an irritable complaint.

"He did, but things took a bit of time to put in order." Rayleigh answered good-naturedly.

Whitebeard didn't seem convinced.

"Your navigation skills got rusty?"

It was a bit nostalgic and sad to sail, especially alone, without his crew in the New World, but him being rusty? Really? Whitebeard wanted to go down the old age road.

"No, I needed to take a detour," Rayleigh said, taking out a bottle from his bag and throwing it to Whitebeard direction, who caught it with ease.

Of course, he hadn't gone on a detour just for the tasty and (very) expensive sake. He had also needed to find some of his old associates to find out where to get a white Den Den Mushi, the rare breed capable of secure communications, as Shanks had begged him to find one, and maybe get one for himself while he was at it. Things were looking to be quite interesting –and possibly even exciting! —and he preferred to stay in the ' _in'_ as Shanks had eloquently put it.

Whitebeard opened his own bottle with his teeth, taking a gulp of the sake, and gestured for Rayleigh to sit.

"You heard from Shanks?" the question had several layers to it, as him being here was an answer in itself. The fact that Whitebeard used Shanks' actual name (as opposed to some insult) was very telling about how serious the following conversation would be.

"I did. How you are handling everything?" he answered, while sitting in the only chair that was there in front of the big man. It was prepared for him.

Whitebeard snorted a laugh and refused to answer.

Both of them stared at each other, each side trying to figure out how to have this conversation. It was an awkward situation.

They had never had a conversation alone before. Rayleigh could count on one hand the times that he had accompanied Roger to conversation with Whitebeard. And on two hands the times that those two met without fighting. They were enemies, but what were they today? Roger in his own way, both then and now, brought them together. He liked to meddle even from beyond the grave. _Destiny, hmmm._

Finally, Rayleigh sighed and said, "Roger screwed you over too, huh?"

"What do you know about _this_?"

"The question… Roger asked me three times."

No need to say which question. They both knew.

"When?" demanded Whitebeard, eyes narrowed.

"The first time when he was able to hear the Voice of All Things, then after leaving Raftel, and finally right before disbanding the crew."

Whitebeard hummed, deep in thought, considering the new information.

"He seemed serious while asking it, and for him to ask me more than once was out of character," Rayleigh added, thoughtful.

After what Shanks had told him, he had run those memories through in his mind repeatedly, examining them from every nook and angle. Trying to see why this question was so important, and why had it occupied Roger's mind so much. Roger didn't do regrets, meaning that his question had another meaning. How important was it, and what role did it have to play? Was it just sending someone back in time (which was a feat in itself)? But why ask so many people, why... No, his gut was telling him that there was something more to it.

The last words Roger told him flashed again in his mind, "I am not gonna die, partner." Rayleigh had turned to look at him in time to glimpse his knowing smirk before his figure disappeared from his sight forever.

Was _this_ what Roger meant by those words? He thought that Roger meant that his legend and name would live on without a body of flesh and blood to hold it. And that indeed what had happened.

In the last moment of his life, Roger had turned his fading 'flame of life', 'the Marine's ultimate victory,' into a huge uncontrollable fire that enveloped the world. He had turned the Marine's Justice against them. Roger's name had become a legend whispered in reverence and awe. Roger had burned. His story, even though it was false and twisted, had become an inspiration to those who dreamed, hoped and, gazed at the seas.

Rayleigh had never laughed more than on the day of Roger's execution, never cried more than on that day... and never drank more either.

He thought all this time that that was what Roger had meant. But after he heard about the time travel, he wondered about everything Roger had said.

Had Roger planned for this to happen even before his death? For how long?

Was Whitebeard the intended target, or if Rayleigh had found his death before Whitebeard. If that had actually happened would he be the one seeking out Whitebeard to help him in his quest to change the _future_?

"What was your answer?" Whitebeard seemed curious. _Comparing answers?_

"If I wanted to live a safe life without regrets, I wouldn't have become a pirate, least of all a Roger Pirate."

Whitebeard laughed, taking a long sip as a salute to his answer.

"I assume you didn't bring me here for this."

"I only _brought_ you here because the brat wouldn't shut up."

Rayleigh snorted. He had no hard time believing this. Shanks' favorite techniques of persuasion were sometimes too similar to nagging (they were nagging). Yet, Whitebeard was also like Roger, he was stubborn, and if he really didn't want Rayleigh to know, not death itself would make him agree.

"But..." Whitebeard began, he seemed unsure, which was unlike him. Especially because Whitebeard himself approved for him to be informed, and had been forewarned of his arrival here. Whatever the matter was, it seemed to be weighing heavily on him.

Whitebeard seemed to be having an inner debate, and in few seconds he seemed to have reached a final decision. Taking a gulp of sake, maintain eye contact he said.

"There is something only you can do."

"Oh?" Rayleigh asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

Whitebeard could see it clearly on his face, by the amused look he threw to his direction, before he explained exactly what he wanted to be done.

A few minutes later... What seemed like forever and then some.

"You want me to go to East Blue, and train Luffy... The boy is seven," exclaimed Rayleigh. That was a surprise. He wasn't sure what his thoughts were on the matter, and he wanted to meet the boy before deciding on anything; even if his future self-approved of him…

"And Luffy's older brother," Whitebeard added for him.

"Right, Shanks did mention him." murmured Rayleigh.

He seemed important to Whitebeard, that the boy was _destined_ to become a Commander under Whitebeard's flag, and so young at that. But still, why should he train those two...? And more so as young as they were now?

They both went quiet, Rayleigh contemplating the strange request, trying to make sense of it. Why was it important to train them in the grand scheme...?

Whitebeard waited until Rayleigh was taking a gulp of sake to tell him why.

"He is Roger's son."

Rayleigh choked, spat, and began uncontrollable coughing fit of the level that he had only experienced once before, when Roger announced the disbanding of the crew. They both waited for him to drink before announcing the BOOM. Those two assholes! Whitebeard and Roger alike.

"Son? Roger's?" He uttered between coughs. Shanks didn't mention any of that. Was it on purpose or did he not know? No, Shanks wouldn't have been able to keep such thing from him, not in the state he was in any way. Whitebeard was being real cautious and stingy with every bit of information. _Which begs the question, why tell me this?_

Whitebeard nodded looking amused. Damn him, using him as entertainment. Both Roger and him were the same.

Son! It couldn't be Luffy, he was seven…right?! ...So…

"Luffy's older brother… How old is he?"

While his body was trying to catch a breath (literally), Rayleigh's mind was racing, theories and memories searching for any clue. Who was the mother? How the hell did he survive? The Marines and Cipher Pol would have searched low and high for any rumor… Any small hint…

"Ace is 12 now."

 _Twelve?_

"That's hard to believe… Are you sure … Roger died 13, almost 14 years ago."

"Indeed, yet he is his son."

No doubt showed in his face saying this. Ace was Roger's son. That should be impossible, the age didn't fit but…

BUT they were talking about Roger if someone could have a son a year and maybe some after he died, it would be him. But wait a second...

"Does that mean that Luffy is his son too?" That was just unbelievable! How the hell... Was he really dea—

"No."

Rayleigh let out a sigh, he was feeling unbalanced and finding it hard to get his equilibrium back, even though he had control over his breathing. _Had Roger broken his own unspoken rule?_

"Explain please…" Rayleigh ignored the begging note in his own voice, yet Whitebeard founded it all the more amusing, taking his _sweet_ time answering. The old man put on a show, busied himself with drinking. So _painfully slow_. Savoring each sip.

Rayleigh's mind raced with theories and memories, ignoring the childish antics (really, he was just like Roger!). Searching. Trying to wrap his head around this information. Roger was by no mean a saint. But with the disease consuming his body bit by bit, and the new nickname (Roger called it a 'pet name' at first, given to him by his lovely persistent stalker, World Government) anyone that had any relationship with him –even fleeting one- would be in grave danger. Especially from the fairer sex.

Only those who knew him well would had seen the slight change in his behavior. Whenever they would stop to visit some island, he was still charismatic, attracting every gaze to him, except he subtly closed off. For instance, instead of sitting whenever he wished without care, he sat pointedly between his crew members. He made himself –even more— oblivious to blunt invitations from offering ladies. Still smiling and joking his usual self, but surrounding himself with invisible wall to deter any stranger from coming closer.

It had been so unlike the Roger he knew, and it took a while for him to come to terms with those changes and the reasons for them.

Rayleigh eyed Whitebeard, who was looking straight back at him, face blank as he took another slow sip. He raised an eyebrow as if daring Rayleigh to hurry him up.

Rayleigh sighed inwardly, while he cast down his gaze –Worse than Roger!— when a fuzzy memory come unbidden to his mind. He and Roger were out of their mind's drunk one night; it was for some kind of celebration, even frankly neither of them could remember what it was for in the morning. The details were vague in his head. But now he remembered Roger confiding in him, that his own coming death made him think about his legacy. Specifically, children. That he was glad that, as far as he knew, he had no children of his own. Because they would be brought to this twisted world, especially with him gone soon, unable to protect him or her, and unable to show the child how seas and oceans were waves of freedom for the daring and free to sail. Roger laughed after those somber words, joking about how they both would suck at being paternal figures. Rayleigh had joined in the laughter with the image of Roger trying to change a diaper of screaming smelly child, firmly in his mind.

Whitebeard took another sip. A very long sip.

They never spoke about the topic after that, except once, when Rayleigh was busy shouting at those good for nothing apprentices for one mishap or another, and Roger passing by remarked loudly that he had changed his mind, and that training all those rookies was sure to make Rayleigh a good father.

The insolent rookies had the gall to snicker and laugh. Rayleigh had enthusiastically showing them what kind of _fatherly_ punishment he had in store. (O _h_ , the good old days).

From what Whitebeard was saying, it sounded like Roger had known of his son's existence, which meant he and this mystery woman had decided to embark on having a child together, despite that promise. What kind of woman would be able to break the will of the stubbornest man he knew?

Whitebeard cleared his throat. Rayleigh's eyes climbed back to his face, but the old man just took another sip. Rayleigh refused to let his shoulders drop in defeat, and decided that two can play the game. He was the one that brought the sake, the least he could do was enjoy it too.

"Her name was Portgas D. Rouge…."

Rayleigh coughed hard. The drink had gone down the wrong path, _again (Whitebeard was totally aiming for that! He wasn't even trying to hide it!_ _)_. He felt like he was coughing his lungs out as he heaved. It took few minutes to stop. All the while Whitebeard had an unchanging smirk on his face.

 _This was revenge. He was taking his anger on Roger out on me, dammit!_

Rayleigh took a long breath, and let out a dry laugh, ignoring the bit of pain that accompanied it, "A **D**! Of course she needs to be a bloody _D_ for Roger to fall for her."

 _It makes sense, doesn't it! Only another D could steer the fate of another D._

Whitebeard waited few seconds for Rayleigh to let it all out of his system.

"Roger met her somewhere in South Blue… And to protect Ace she carried him for 20 months and... died just after giving birth. Ace took her name to show his respect for her love and sacrifice."

Rayleigh shook his head, still a bit dazed. He casted his eyes to the wooden floor trying to digest what he had heard.

Leave it to Roger to find the one women that could fight nature itself. She had the true will of D. She was Roger's equal. Rayleigh felt a deep sadness, as well as a bit of betrayal as to never having the chance to meet such a person. Why hadn't he told him that he met such a fine woman? That Roger finally found someone he could …

Them being disbanded wasn't even _an excuse._

He had made sure Roger met Shakky. True, she wasn't his wife then, yet he had already known that if he ever settled down, it would be with her.

Rayleigh refused to dwell anymore on this right now, and instead he said.

"Why are you telling me this?"

Whitebeard would not tell him this if he doesn't have a specific goal in his head.

"As I said I want you to train them."

Rayleigh stared at him, opened his mouth, trying to follow one thread of thought, trying to get his head in order of any kind, and breathed out, "Why?"

Whitebeard raised his eyebrow at the unbelieving tone.

"Why tell me he is Roger's son? Why tell me at all? Why train them now? Why _me_ training them?" Too damn many questions run in his head.

 _Why me?_

Whitebeard stared at him, and nonchalantly answered.

"Why not?"

Rayleigh spluttered and tried to concentrate on his thoughts and ignore Whitebeard's antics, he was clearly _messing_ with him. It was some kind of revenge plot. He was sure! _Dammit!_

"Why not bring them here to the _Moby_?" Rayleigh tried a different approach of attacking the issue and added. "After taking care of some of your _problems_ first."

He saw no reason to be polite if his host wasn't.

"I did consider it." Whitebeard said, ignoring the _impoliteness_ of his guest. His eyes were downcast as if in deep thought, and then he directed his piercing gaze at him and said, "Let's say I somehow explain to the crew why I am bringing two young innocent children aboard a pirate ship. There still a lot of logistic problems to consider… But more importantly they would become a target, a _liability_ … Marines, pirates, the other Yonkos… Cipher Pol... A pirate ship is not a place for growing children, not in the New World." He paused and added, "I want them to have as normal a childhood as possible, not a wanted life, especially not this young."

Rayleigh nodded, seeing in his mind the unspoken consequences of such decision.

Even if they tried to keep them inconspicuous (how the hell do you keep small children on Yonko ship _inconspicuous_!), or worse a secret (everyone wants to find or reveal a secret), it would only delay the inevitable. Their mere presence would bring unwanted questions (Who are they? What is their relationship to Whitebeard? Why bring them here? Now?), and fora powerful pirate like Whitebeard that meant trouble. As he said, Marines, Yonkos, pirates, and Cipher Pol … Everyone would want to find out more about them (Are they his kids? A Division Commander's?), and how to use them against him. They would be seen as the weak link. Whitebeard's Achilles Heel.

Yes, those two being on this ship meant they would be issued a Wanted Poster (well, maybe not an actual one) just by the _merit_ of their presence.

"You can hide them and have some of your commanders and allies train them in secret," suggested Rayleigh.

Whitebeard raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to elaborate.

"I don't mean hide them with your allies." He said, "which would still bring a lot of attention to them. But actually hide them… _you know_." Rayleigh stressed his words.

He saw a tiny twitch on Whitebeard's chin, indicting he understood what Rayleigh implied, and he wasn't happy.

It was by a chance -really- by which he and Roger found out to where Whitebeard funneled his, ahem... treasures...

His homeland.

A pirate's life meant you either cut any ties you had to your past, or kept them hidden so deep no one can even consider the truth of it.

And really who would think that the great Whitebeard (an orphan himself, mind you) would use his money to help the citizens – mostly orphans— in his own homeland. Assuming anyone could figure out where he had started out.

Anyone with a brain if you asked Rayleigh. The man loved gathering strays. But Whitebeard had built a reputation, a narrative of unchallenged power, swift retaliation at any attack, his word being the law of the land that trumped any other mortal (Marines) law. In all those stories of his strength, authority, and fearful wrath, helping orphans didn't fit in them.

"I considered it," Whitebeard said truthfully. He still eyed Rayleigh a bit warily, yet didn't question him about his knowledge. (Of course, he was sure he wouldn't leave the ship without divulging all he knew to Whitebeard's satisfaction.)

Rayleigh would take the secret to his grave without being asked. He blamed the shock for letting it slip out, and wondered if this was why Whitebeard was so thoughtful in the beginning of their conversation. He was sure that Whitebeard's first instinct was to move the young boys to safe place: his own home. The place he had made the safest in the world.

Rayleigh was sure that Whitebeard had considered everything before asking him to train the children. He just wanted to know his reasons. All of them.

"I don't wish to pluck them from their home. It would be hard to explain their need to leave. And kidnapping of such…" Whitebeard grimaced, trailing off.

Rayleigh nodded absentmindedly, trying to imagine how the conversation would go. Explaining to young boys the need for their departure from everything they knew. When the truth was far stranger than fiction. What kind of lie would work?

Using force would only birth mistrust. They couldn't afford that.

Yet Rayleigh felt he was missing something important concerning the 'kidnapping' bit, to be able to see the full picture.

"And their absences would not go unnoticed… there is Garp to think of..."

"Garp... Garp is their Guardian?" Yes, Shanks did mention D. Monkey… Did that mean…

"Yes."

"I see, Roger took him to Garp," mumbled Rayleigh somberly.

"You don't seem to be offended by it."

"Are you?" Rayleigh countered.

"No, but I am sad. He did say he wanted to give Ace the choice to freely choose the life he would live."

"It is just like Roger to want others to choose freely," mused Rayleigh loudly. The words that Roger had said more than few times reemerged in his mind.

' _Inherited Will, The Destiny of the Age, and The Dreams of the People. As long as people continue to pursue the meaning of Freedom, these things will never cease to be!'_

Rayleigh sighed and said, "I would had preferred if he trusted me or at least told me of his son's existence, but I understand why he didn't."

He was now mostly over the 'betrayed' feeling he initially felt. He didn't like or agree to it, but he could see why Roger chose to keep it a secret. And more importantly, he respected him for it.

Whitebeard hummed, and arched his brow, waiting for him to elaborate.

"If I or you would have had with us a young child, or pregnant woman, just after Roger died, the marines would have been all over us. We were too well known for us to completely disappear then and to keep them safe. In a way, Roger would be taking our _freedom_ from us if he gave us his son to take care of."

Whitebeard snorted, but he seemed to be listening in interest.

"No one would think that Roger's son would be given to _The_ Marine, the one who caught him, _The Hero_. In the midst of the enemy is the safest place… and as Roger said he would have opportunity to choose his life…." Rayleigh trailed off, and with clear amusement, he added.

"You have to admit, if he were born and raised on pirate ship, the way he saw the world will be ... a little screwed up."

Whitebeard howled out a laugh.

"It would never cross his mind to be anything else except a pirate, and in way Roger was right, we would be _coercing_ him into being a pirate, taking the choice out of his hands."

Whitebeard only nodded, he had already saw all of this, yet wanted to hear his take on it.

"And if there was one marine to trust to keep his word then it would be Garp... Although I don't know about his child _rearing_ methods…" Rayleigh trailed off, quieting down.

Whitebeard seemed to agree wholeheartedly with his last point, by the dark look in his face.

"You didn't answer!" Rayleigh said forcefully, dragging them back to the issue at hand. "Let's say I agree. That it's better not to bring any attention to them by taking them from their home. Why do you want me to do it?" He persisted.

Whitebeard took gulp of his sake, not bothering to answer.

"Why not someone else from your crew, or allies? Someone whose absence you can explain away, or will go unnoticed."

"Garp is a one reason."

Rayleigh nodded, saying. "I see. You need someone who won't be caught by him, and if there is fight I can handle myself."

Whitebeard snorted but give a nod of acknowledgment as he took swag of the bottle.

Yet, Rayleigh felt there was still more to it, and he was right.

"You knew Roger," Whitebeard announced and continued. "You would not hold who his father is against him."

"No, the opposite." Rayleigh told him, which may be worse.

"Exactly." Intoned Whitebeard and explained. "Ace hates him."

Of course he would, the world had made Roger into a monster. Portraying him as the ultimate evil, the perfect devil...

"Understandable."

Roger was, in a way, a monster; he took everything to the extreme. He had a monstrous stubbornness, a monstrous tenacity, a monstrous passionate, a monstrous resolve, a monstrous loyalty…

"And because of _that,_ he hates himself, and questions his own existence."

Rayleigh could only nod. When you thought you are the son of the devil then self-doubt, hate, uncertainty could consume you. He needed _an anchor (something to hold to)_ to survive long enough to become a Whitebeard commander... The younger brother? Luffy?

"He tried to kill me." Whitebeard said, his eyes showing nostalgia and amusement, Rayleigh could tell he was remembering the old good days (or was it the future, this whole time travel thing was confusing). Only pirates from Whitebeard caliber would talk about their own assassination in longing.

"The usual way to join the crew," Rayleigh remarked. They had had a few of those themselves.

"Because if he beat me, the person his father couldn't, then ..."

"His life would have meaning," continued Rayleigh, seeing how much the uncertainty of young child's own existence had twisted his perspective.

Both of them shared a look of deep understanding.

"Living in Roger's shadow is never easy, especially with the way he had _gone_."

Rayleigh knew this too well, as the one to be _his_ First mate. He once considered in passing creating his own crew, except he knew that he would forever be known as the Pirate King's first mate. He was proud of the title, and that journey was enough for him, but if he decided to make a new name for himself, that would have been an unattainable dream.

What would he have gone for by that point anyways, except becoming the second Pirate King, when Roger was the first. He had already seen where that journey would take him, in every possible way, and didn't wish for a repeat.

"So… you want me to help with his _hatred_."

"Subtly. He had always heard only bad things about Roger growing up and never from someone who actually knew him, and by the time he reached me, even speaking Roger's name would fill him with rage and hate. I admit, I still should have tried more to help him with his doubts and self-hatred..." Whitebeard eyes showed his own guilt and regret. This look didn't belong on his face.

"What if I succeed?"

Whitebeard raised an eyebrow questionably, confused by the sudden turn in the conversation.

"Making him stop hating his _dad_ , accepting him. Even loving Roger."

"Yes?" Whitebeard asked, bewildered in what way this would be a bad thing.

Rayleigh sharp eyes were assessing every muscle in Whitebeard's face when he answered him.

"He wouldn't be your son then."

Whitebeard's face didn't change.

No twitch this time.

"No."

"Oh?" Rayleigh insisted.

"He is already my son, him acknowledging it or not doesn't change the fact that I am his father."

Rayleigh took in Whitebeard's body toned to attack (or maybe protect), and his stony faced expression, his determined eyes, his decisive tone of voice and the words themselves.

And he just realized, it didn't matter how you looked at this declaration.

Words he himself once said flashed in his own mind. ' _Maybe nothing in this world happens by accident. As everything happens for a reason, our destiny slowly takes form...'_

Calling him either Roger's son or Whitebeard's son, neither of those were important.

Ace's path was already taking shape without him being the wiser.

It didn't seem to matter in which… World, or maybe 'timeline,' he lived in, he was cursed (or blessed) ... to have those giants as fathers. _Destiny Huh (or Roger's meddling if you will)._

Rayleigh stifled a laugh. He was looking forward to meeting him and Shanks's 'heir'.

He nodded to Whitebeard acknowledging his point, and relaxing on his chair.

 _._

 _._

 _Wait._

 _._

 _._

 _Just wait second_ , Rayleigh's mind screamed at him.

Does that mean he would become another father figure?

A third one.

Oh no!

His curse to stay in Roger's shadow had struck again!

(Well, Shakky had always insisted he would be a good father. He would put Roger's own remark, 'training all those rookies sure to make Rayleigh a good father,' to the test.)

A curse or blessing, he was about to find out.

…

..

.

XXXXX

.

..

...

They spoke until dawn of plans and the future of the two cheeky brats (as Whitebeard had dubbed them).

Of course, that was after he had explained repeatedly and in detail about how he and Roger found about Whitebeard's treasured island, and assured him that no one else knew. Again and again (It took up half of the rest of their conversation, seriously!).

He learned a few interesting things about his future charge, but what caught his attention was that Whitebeard was sure that those two would play huge role in shaping the future generation, with or without his intervention. He would have to meet them and decide for himself.

Before setting sail to East Blue to meet his new charges, Rayleigh turned to face Whitebeard one last time, and asked the important question that occupied Shanks's mind.

"What do you intend to do with the _rat_?"

He got a glare intensified with Haki for his troubles.

Well, he asked, he didn't expect an answer, but there was another question that was _bugging_ him.

"Where is your _Phoenix_?"

Whitebeard's body relaxed and a loud cold laugh rang out, his eyes had an unreadable glint that a made a shiver run down the Dark King's spine.

"In way he is catching a RAT."

…

..

.

XXXXX

.

..

...

" _Are you sure you found it? yoi."_

" _No doubt about it. It is there."_

 _._

 _._

 _._

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Soooooooo.. your thoughts? Anyone? Theories? Come onnnnnnnnnn feed my starving soul ;D

.

 **I never saw or read a serious scene between those two characters. So it was my own personal challenge to try to write these two legends - Whitebeard and Rayleigh- having a conversation as realistically as possible while dealing with these 'important' issues discussed in this chapter. Did I succeed?**

.

This came early (I am the best, aren't I!). I have a schedule (Sorta) and I am supposed to be working on my **Shanks's Choice** Story (I am working on it, promise!) but I thought because of your lovely reviews and my newfound inspiration I should post this earlier.

.

 **Keep the motivation rollin' :D leave a review (Yes, I still need more M &Ms).**


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